Charming
by Fuyumi
Summary: Not knowing what to do with herself after leaving Hogwarts, Hermione settles on staying with the one who needs her most until that changes.
1. Chapter One : Appears

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer**: I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter One: Appears**   
  


It wasn't a very impressive charm to look at in the least. In fact, it looked to be on the short side of dinghy. However, impressive looks didn't equal impressive effects and any witch worth her wand knew this. This charm, in particular, was very powerful indeed, if she made it correctly. 

Hermione Granger was absolutely certain that she had made it correctly for she had spent years in perfecting it, though that was slightly overstating her case. She had learned about it first in her fifth year at Hogwarts and had made it soon afterwards. She checked and rechecked, over the next couple of years, that her calculations were right and that the charm should theoretically work. However, she did not test its effectiveness right away because she did not know how the transportation side of the charm would work on the anti-Apparition wards placed on the school – and she didn't want to be the first witch to find out. Testing it during the summer was, of course, out of the question, as underage witches were not allowed to use magic then on pain of being expelled. While Hermione was certainly curious as to whether or not she had made the charm correctly, she didn't feel it was worth the punishment. 

There were a couple times when she had almost used it though – when Harry hadn't written to either her or Ron for weeks – but there was no guarantee it would take her to him. While he might have needed her during those times, he might not have been the person who needed her most and so always she decided not to use it. The charm would take her only to the person and place where she was most needed, and not necessarily to the particular person she wanted to help. 

What Hermione really wanted was a charm that would take her to wherever she belonged. However no such charm existed and this charm was the best substitute that her research had found. She supposed it was just as well. A charm that would take her to where she belonged wouldn't take her to the person she thought she belonged with and that could be a disaster. No, it was much better to muddle around searching for her place than risk that. The problem was she had been searching ever since she had left Hogwarts and still she did not know what she wanted to do with her life. She had always focused before on studying for exams, trying to keep Harry alive, and trying to keep both Harry and Ron out of trouble, though not in that particular order. Now that they had all left Hogwarts, she felt rather at a loss and she didn't know what to do with herself. She had letters from both her best friends, talking about what they were doing and how they were making their way through the world and those letters always made her feel jealous. Jealous that they found their ways easier than she, despite the fact that she tried so hard to find hers. It was rather depressing how she seemed lost at sea and unable to decide what she wanted to do with herself. Hence, the reason for her finally testing the charm that she made so long ago. If she couldn't decide for herself what to do after Hogwarts, she would at least go to where she was most needed. At least, she would be useful in some manner then. 

Hermione checked one last time to make she had everything she needed on her person. Her wand was where it belonged, holstered at her side. Her bag was full, with several changes of clothing and other personal items. On her bed was a letter to her parents, assuring them that she was all right and that she would write as soon as she found the time. There was nothing left for her to do except to take the charm and leave. 

She let out a sigh as she picked up the charm. Holding it tightly in her hands, she closed her eyes and whispered, "_Enchantus_." 

There was a momentary sensation of darkness, enclosing her from all around, and then just as suddenly, she found she was falling. She finally landed with a plop on something soft. 

"Ouch!" she said, thankful that she had landed on a soft cushion but wishing it would stop moving. "That hurt." 

"Hermione?" a voice called from beneath her that sounded amazingly like Harry. "Not to be rude, but would mind getting off?" 

Hermione looked down to see the Boy Who Lived looking rather groggy and rubbing his head. "Harry!" she exclaimed. "Are you all right? Do you have a headache? I know just the charm that would help—" 

"I'm _fine_, Hermione," he responded forcefully. "And I'd be even better if you could please get off me." 

"Oh right." She quickly scrambled off him "Sorry about that, wasn't thinking clearly, you know, it being the middle of the night and all, and I really should be in bed and—" Hermione trailed off as Harry sat up, treating her to the sight of his bare chest. Lucky her. She got to see what Harry wore to bed, and the fact that he was evidently attired only in a pair of boxer shorts was making her blush a furious red. Perhaps later she would look back in appreciation of this moment but for right now, she was hoping against hope that he couldn't see her blush – or that he would chalk it up to the inherent awkwardness of the situation. 

"So what brings you here?" Harry asked, diverting her train of thought. That was just was well, considering that train taken a naughty turn and run off the tracks. 

"Oh, well, I just thought I would drop by to see you," she answered. Somehow, she didn't think it would be prudent to let him know that she had arrived here via the use of an experimental charm. 

"You Apparated? I thought I had those wards set up correctly. And how did you manage that since you've never been here before?" 

"Well, not exactly Apparated," she hedged, looking frantically around for something to change the subject to. "This place is a bit of a mess," she settled on. "Those horrid Dursleys! This room isn't—" 

"This isn't the Dursleys, Hermione," Harry said flatly. "It's my own flat. Sorry for the mess but I didn't exactly expect anyone to drop by." 

"But I'm your friend!" she protested. "Surely you were going to invite us over some time just to meet up and talk about old times." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Hermione knew she had said the wrong thing. Old times to Harry weren't very pleasant. They all had unpleasant memories to deal with from Hogwarts, but Harry's were the worst given all the people he had seen die before his very eyes. 

"Normally, I would expect you to wait for an invitation," Harry said. "Unless . . . is there anything wrong, Hermione? You've not been very talkative in your last few letters . . ." 

"Wrong, no nothing is wrong." _Aside from the fact that I have to keep reminding myself it wouldn't be polite to jump you_, she thought to herself. "I . . . well, I didn't have anything better to do and I thought I would just—" A sudden rapping at Harry's front door interrupted her. 

"Oh fuck," Harry cursed. "These walls are so damned thin. That would be Mrs. Stewart, the landlady. Where the hell are my trousers?" Harry groped around in the dark, in search of his clothing, but he didn't have much success. The rapping only increased in volume as Harry fumbled around. 

Hermione would have liked to simply admire the view, but knew that he could hardly see a thing without his glasses. It was rather surprising that he had recognized her, though she supposed she was very close to him when he did. Silently, she dropped her bag off in the corner and padded over to the nightstand upon which Harry's glasses were placed. Picking them up, she went over to Harry and tapped his shoulder. "Here, this might help," she told him, handing his glasses out to him. 

"Thanks." He quickly put them on. "And erm . . . would you mind – no, don't worry, here are my trousers and so if you just would excuse me for a bit." Harry dashed out of the room, still pulling his clothes on as he made his way to the door. 

Hermione followed after him, curious to see what the rest of his place looked like. Harry's flat was rather sparsely furnished. In the dark, this wasn't a bad thing as having no sharp edges to bump into was the perfect way to prevent bumping into sharp edges during the night. However, it didn't seem like his flat was really lived in. The only furnishing in his living room was a sofa and Hermione thought it looked very lonely. 

"And I told you, Mr Potter, Boy Who Lived or not, that there's no philandering allowed here! I know I heard a witch's voice, so don't you bother—" The short witch at the door then saw Hermione as she walked past the sofa. "Ah! I knew it! I knew you were carrying on some sort of affair, even though I told you that such behavior is strictly forbidden! This is a decent neighborhood, Mr Potter, and no one will appreciate you bringing home witches of ill repute to entertain, you can trust my word on that. I'll see that you're—" 

"This isn't what it looks like." Harry finally managed to get a sentence in but to no avail. 

"Oh, that's what they all say, but I wasn't born yesterday. First thing tomorrow—" 

That was it. Hermione couldn't just stand there as Harry lost his flat because of her actions. She quickly stepped forward and said the first thing that came to her mind. "It's not what you're thinking. I'm his fiancée, Hermione Granger." 

"Fiancée?" The witch had stopped her ranting. "But I see no ring . . ." 

"It's a secret engagement, you see." Hermione did not dare to look at Harry's face as she glibly lied. This was _not _the best idea she had ever had and she cursed herself for having read one too many romance novels. "And I'm so sorry for disturbing you but I haven't seen him for weeks, not since we left Hogwarts, and I only wanted to see him again to make sure that he's all right." 

"A secret engagement?" the witch repeated. "Why ever for?" 

"Oh, it was his idea, about not exposing me too much to the media and all that. I told him that I didn't mind, that I want to be with him more than anything, but you know how wizards can be. I suppose I was so worried that I wasn't thinking straight and I had to see him right away . . ." 

"Yes, yes, of course. Perfectly understandable that." The witch gave Harry a sharp glare. "Of course, allowances are made for your fiancée. She's perfectly welcome to stay with you. It's not like you're having an affair. Would you please remember to put the Silencing Charms up? And I would say that if she says that she's ready to announce your engagement that you do it. Secret engagements were never good for anyone." With that final piece of advice handed out, the witch left. Harry gladly closed the door behind her before turned turning to look at Hermione. 

"Fiancée?" He raised one eyebrow at her. "Not that I'm not grateful for your intervention but couldn't you have thought of something else? Half the Wizarding World will know of our 'engagement' by morning." 

"It was the first thing I thought of," she huffed. "And it's not as if you were doing a particularly splendid job of telling her—" 

"Just why my best friend decided to surprise me by visiting me in the middle of the night? You know, I think my problem might have been that I don't know why she took it up in her head to do that myself." 

"You need me," she said simply, "and so here I'll stay." 

"You are not staying here! For one, there's no place for you to sleep!" 

"There's the sofa right over there—" 

"That's as hard as a rock, you can't sleep there!" 

"Are you suggesting I sleep with you?" After taking care of his landlady for him, Hermione felt on firmer ground – and more able to tease him. 

"I never said that!" Harry blushed a deep red. "I simply said that—" 

"You need me, Harry, more than anyone else in the world so this is where I'll stay," she said. "Until you don't need me any longer." She brushed a kiss against his cheek. "I promise. Now, if you don't mind, I'll go make us some tea to help us relax." Hermione walked off in the direction she thought the kitchen would be. 

Harry trailed his hand against his cheek. His cheek was warm and moist from where her lips had kissed him. "Maybe I do need you," he said softly into the night. He smiled to himself. "But for now, I think _you _need _me_ to show you that the way to the kitchen." Harry turned around and walked briskly, so he could get to Hermione before she wound up back in his room. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

In the end, Hermione had been the one to win the Battle of the Sofa. Harry had insisted again and again that he would sleep there, while she took the bed. Ultimately, however, she had reasoned that the person who slept on the sofa would be the person who slept last as said person could give the bed to the other. From there, she argued that she was more likely to stay up later than Harry simply because of all of the late-night study sessions she went through while they were at Hogwarts. Therefore, if Harry felt any concern for her well-being, he would take her up on her offer to sleep on the sofa straight away rather by delaying her sleep further. In the face of such assured logic, Harry had no choice but to relent. 

Yet Hermione did not have much time to rejoice in her victory. Harry had been wrong in his assessment that the sofa was as hard as a rock. It was harder than that. Much harder than that. Hermione spent most of the night, tossing and turning, trying desperately to find a comfortable position. She finally gave up just as the sun was rising, deciding that it was a hopeless case. She would try and fix it tomorrow, after consulting her books on what charms would be the best to use, but for now, she would just make breakfast. And coffee. Coffee was a splendid idea. 

She carefully traced her way back to the kitchen, remembering how just a few short hours before she had got lost on her way there . . . and how Harry had came to show her the right way, with his arm around her waist, and how warm and soft and good that had felt. 

_Oh stop that_, she told herself, _How are you ever going to live with Harry if you're always blushing? He's not that slow and he's sure to cotton on sooner rather than later. And besides, I know you can do this. You did survive two years in close proximity with him while fancying him back at Hogwarts._

And she had. It had been hellish at times, thinking about him, worrying about him, and always wanting to be near him, while he did stare at prettier girls. Talk about a blow to one's self esteem. 

Willing herself not to think about that anymore, Hermione started to make breakfast once she reached the kitchen. Unfortunately, Harry's selection of food was almost as minimalist as his furniture was for he only had a couple eggs, a few pieces of bread, and some milk – and instant coffee. Normally that fact alone would have sent Hermione off to the shop to get a few more things to eat along with a decent source of caffeine but this wasn't a normal situation. For one, she had no idea what sort of neighborhood her best friend lived in or where the nearest shop would be. More importantly, she had no key – and so she would either have to leave the door unlocked or hope that Harry would answer quickly when she came back. Neither of those two options was very appealing and Hermione decided just to make do with what food was available. 

Of course, she was also able to decide that quickly because her cooking skills were limited. Hermione knew better than to try anything fancy if she wanted the kitchen to stay intact and she did. It wouldn't be the height of politeness if she burnt down Harry's kitchen before she had been there for a day. 

About a half hour later, Hermione was nursing her second cup of instant coffee of the day. The eggs hadn't gone too badly and the toast was good, despite the fact that there was nothing to spread on top of it. The coffee was bad but that couldn't be helped and it didn't really matter. When she was this sleepy, any source of caffeine was divine. 

"Breakfast smells good," Harry said from behind her. "I didn't know you could cook." 

"Of course I can cook," Hermione replied. She didn't add that she could only cook the simplest of dishes. "Good morning Harry!" she said cheerfully and turned around to greet him. 

Her jaw dropped. 

There stood Harry Potter, her best friend and savior of the Wizarding World in nothing except for his boxers. 

He looked like he _was_ breakfast. 

_Okay, stop with the bad thoughts. Must remember he's your best friend and you shouldn't drool over him like this. You are *not* checking into the Bad Place. Oh god! Why me?_ Hermione quickly turned back towards the table. "So want some eggs? Or toast?" she asked. 

"Sounds lovely." Harry took the seat across from her and began shoveling food on to his plate. 

Hermione swore at the sight and ducked her head down. She knew she'd only make a fool out of herself if she kept staring at him. _The boy has no sense of self-preservation_, she thought._ Didn't he know that even I have my limits? And that the only reason why my hands weren't running up and down his chest was because I'm clenching them into fists? Does he want me to leap on him and insist on a snog or does he just like torturing me?_

"Is something wrong Hermione?" The sound of his voice made her look up – and look down again just as quickly when confronted with how utterly adorable he looked with bed hair. 

"Honestly, Hermione. Is there something on my face? Or why can't you . . ." Harry's voice trailed off as he realized his lack of attire. "Oh . . . I'm a bit underdressed . . . of course . . . wait one second, I'll be right back!" He ran out of the room furiously and Hermione was left alone to compose her thoughts. 

Which of course were all about him. 

And how she wished she could have tasted him. He had to taste better than the crappy instant coffee. 

Which begged the question why was she continuing to drink it when she could have him. 

Hermione wince and tried to think of something else, as her current train of thought would only lead to trouble. Didn't she say before that she could hide how attracted she was to him? Hadn't she done it before this? Why was it so hard for her to do the same today? 

_It has got to be the lack of clothing_, she reasoned. _ You never got to see him before in only his—_

Fortunately, that line of thought was cut off by Harry's arrival back at breakfast. "Sorry about that," he apologized. "I'm not used to company this early in the morning, is all. You should have said something, Hermione, rather than just let me make a bloody fool out of myself." 

"Well, what was I supposed to say? Besides, I'm your friend, you prat. I've seen you make a fool out of yourself a dozen times before!" Hermione went back to nursing her cup of coffee, noting silently that Harry still looked too good for words. On the bright side of the whole matter, Harry was bound to have forgotten to ask just how she came to his flat last night. 

"So," Harry started, "you never did get around to telling me how you found your way here. And I checked the anti-Apparition wards and they are functional." 

Hermione winced. If fairy godmothers were real – and she had reason to believe that was the case – she had to have got the most inept one ever. It was probably best to go with telling the truth, for while he would never admit it, Hermione suspected that Harry had a way of knowing when he was being lied to. 

"Would you believe that it was the unexpected side effect of a charm I was trying out?" 

Harry looked at her in askance. "Unexpected side effect? I do find it hard to believe. You're one of the most intelligent witches ever. Didn't you—" 

"Yes, yes, I did check and recheck everything, but I do promise that I didn't expect to wind up here. But I'm glad that I did." She smiled cautiously at him. 

He smiled back. "I'm glad to see you here again too. Though I would have never expected it from you." He paused, as if he weren't certain on how to continue. "But is anything wrong Hermione? I mean, you're welcome to stay here as long as you need to but . . . is there some reason why you're not welcome at your parents' home? I thought that you'd be—" 

"No, no, nothing's wrong. That's the truth and you know I would tell you if anything was, Harry. It's just that . . . well, I don't know how to explain it. But they don't really need me there, they're capable of taking care of themselves, but you . . . you need me." 

"I . . . well, yes, I need you and your friendship but you don't have to—" 

"Do you want me to leave?" Hermione looked up, her eyes wide with pain. "If I'm just a bother, if you don't want me here, of course I'll—" 

"No, no, it's not like that at all. I just don't want you to feel that you're obliged to stay here. It's not like I'm lonely or anything like that." Even as he said those words, Hermione could sense that was a lie. Harry was lonely and in at least that sense, he felt more lost at sea than she did. However, she didn't have the heart to reveal his lie. 

"Of course not," she found herself agreeing. "And I'm fine. I just need to fix that sofa before tonight." 

"You didn't get a wink of sleep last night, did you?" he said accusingly. "I told you you wouldn't. You should have taken the bed." 

"I wasn't about to turn you out of your own bed, Harry. Besides, I know I can fix it so it's more comfortable this evening." 

"We'll talk about that later. For now, you can use mine to sleep in today." 

"This is my second cup of coffee and I'm going back for my third as soon as I can muster the willpower to get up. I doubt I'll sleep any time soon. What I'd really like is your spare key." 

"Spare key? What makes you think I have one?" Harry asked. 

"If you don't, give me yours, and I'll make one today. Or do you not have anything to do? If so, we could spend the day together," Hermione offered. 

"I have tryouts today. For the Puddlemere United reserve team as they're looking for a reserve Seeker. Oliver Wood said that he'd put in a good word for me." He speared a piece of toast with his fork. "What about you? Have you found a job yet?" 

"No, not yet." She glanced down at her hands, ashamed to admit that she hadn't found a job despite the fact that she had more N.E.W.T.s than anyone else. "I'm not quite sure what to do with myself . . . though don't worry, I'm sure to find one sooner rather than later and I'll help out with the expenses and—" 

"You don't have to," Harry replied. "Though don't bother replying as I know that you're going to say that you don't want to be a burden and all. Besides, you'd get bored staying here all day so it's fine. I won't say no to any money you contribute to help out . . . I just want you to know that you don't have to." 

"You're a great friend and I do hope you know that. Shame on me if you don't." Hermione got up from her seat and went over to the counter where the coffee pot was. She poured another cup, stirring in a bit of sugar and milk to improve the taste, before returning to her seat. "And I'll go out later to buy some food and other things. Really Harry! If you're going to try out for Quidditch, I would think that you'd have more stuff around here to eat. You know—" 

"—I need to keep up my strength and all that, but I really hate shopping around here. Everyone stares." Harry put down his fork and frowned. "I wish that wouldn't happen." 

"I know, I know." Hermione reached out a hand across the small table to rest on top of his. "But you can't change that and you'll just have to get used to living with it . . . though you don't have to like it." 

"Yeah, I know. Just as well I suppose that I don't grow a huge ego or anything like that. Not that Ron wouldn't hex me to bring me back to my senses if I did." 

"And I'd be cheering him on," Hermione added. 

"Which reminds me . . . what will we tell him?" 

"About us living together? The truth of course, and it's not as if I would want to live at the Burrow together." 

"I meant about us being 'engaged.'" Harry smiled wryly at her. "Or did you forget already that little white lie you told Mrs Stewart last night?" 

"Oh. That." She had forgot about it, probably around the time when she was reminding herself that she could look but not touch. She sat back in her chair, trying to think of what could be done about the situation. "Well, we only told her that—" 

"We? I seem to remember you telling her that. And like I said, telling her is more efficient than an official announcement. I'm positive she told someone else." 

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that statement. "You're positive that she told someone else? What, did you hear this conversation or are you just assuming that she did?" 

"Speaking from personal experience here. If she hasn't told now, it's only because it's too early in the morning to gossip, that's all." 

"Never too early for that, love," she responded absently. She bit her lip, trying on how to handle this situation. Damn her for not being able to think more clearly last night before getting them into trouble like this. 

"Um . . . love?" Harry's mouth was wide open, and he looked absolutely shocked. "Hermione . . . you . . . me . . . um . . ." he jabbered witlessly. 

"Huh?" She blinked, wondering at his confusion. Then she realized what she had just said before. "Oh! No! Not like that, just like friends, you know. It's just a term of endearment, not meant as anything really!" 

"Of course. Silly of me not to realize that." He scratched the back of his head. "I knew that, really, just the brain's not connected to the mouth, it being too early and all." 

"Early?" Hermione looked at the clock. "Is it really? What time do you need to be at the Quidditch pitch for those tryouts?" 

"Eight sharp," Harry responded. "Why? What time is it now?" 

"A little past seven." 

"Damn. I really need to get going then." 

"Yes, you do. But you need to give me your keys first." 

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. Will do. First though, I need to get changed." The next fifteen minutes were the most hectic Hermione had lived through ever since leaving Hogwarts. Harry had been a typical wizard and not had got everything ready the night before, meaning that she was drafted into helping him locate his Quidditch gear. After spending far too much time looking for it all the Muggle way, she finally regained her senses and used Summoning Charms to locate everything, though that had the end effect of making Harry's flat a complete mess. At long last, he was ready to leave with his Firebolt in his hand and his keys in hers. 

"Good luck, Harry," she said and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "For luck," she explained. 

"Thanks. I'll see you later." And with those words, he was out the door. Hermione was left to her own devices once again. 

Slowly, cautiously, she twirled around to take a long look at the flat. "I think," she announced to the empty room, "that I'll have plenty of things to keep me busy today."   
  


**A/N:** The idea of a charm that will take you to the place where you're most needed comes from the Xanth series, by Piers Anthony. It's been awhile since I've last read any of those books, so I'm afraid I can't pinpoint the volume. As always, I would love to hear what you think of this fic, so please review. 


	2. Chapter Two : Evolution

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer**: I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. The idea of a charm that takes you to the place where you're most needed is from the Xanth series, by Piers Anthony   


**Chapter Two: Evolution**   
  


The first order of business, of course, was to get a copy of Harry's keys made. Doing the chores that required her to go elsewhere first only made sense. She didn't know what time Harry would get back home so the only thing she could do was get back there herself as soon as possible so he wouldn't be locked out of his own flat. If Harry had set up anti-Apparition wards, then he was sure to have set up additional wards over his door and windows to prevent them from being opened by a simple Alohomora. He would probably be able to break through them, as he had made them, but Hermione didn't see any reason why that theory should be put to the test. Especially as, one way or the other, Harry would likely be drained when he did get back. 

That task turned out to be easier than she had thought it would be. On her way down the stairs, she ran into none other than Mrs Stewart, the landlady. 

"Ah, Ms Granger, just the person I was looking for," she said. 

"Good morning, Mrs Stewart," Hermione replied. "How are you today?" 

"Just fine, dear, just fine. I didn't think of this until after I had left last night and I didn't want to go back to disturb you two, but I thought you might like the extra set of keys to the flat." 

"There is one?" 

"Yes, yes, of course." The old witch handed a pair of keys over to Hermione. "Normally, I don't hand the spare set out, but I imagine that you'll want to visit your young man whenever you like and who am I to get in the way of true love?" 

"Oh thank you," she said earnestly. "I really appreciate it . . . though it might be more than just visit . . . I mean, you'd think he would take care of himself but when I looked to see what there was to eat this morning . . ." 

"You didn't find a thing? Typical wizard behavior, that is. They only think of getting food when they're hungry, they never plan ahead, and so it's always take out. But I must say, it's nice to see a young lady looking after her fiancée these days." 

Hermione winced. She had that business about the engagement to take care of as well. "About the engagement . . . well, it is secret for now at least and I'd appreciate it if—" 

"Oh, I won't tell anyone, you have my word on that. I wouldn't want that nasty lady reporter from the Prophet here again. Once was enough, I tell you, when word got out about the Boy Who Lived making his residence here. Though I stand by what I said last night, that it's not good to keep your engagement secret. Secrets never did anyone any good and you should get it out in the open as soon as you can." 

"Yes, I know." Hermione sighed and looked down. There was no way she could tell Mrs Stewart that she had lied last night. She and Harry would just have to live with it. "It's just that he's so protective at times and you've seen yourself how awful reporters can be." 

"True enough. Well, I won't meddle in your affairs any longer," Mrs Stewart declared but somehow Hermione didn't believe her. "You young people will think you know what's best, no matter what older and wiser heads tell you. So I'll just let you get on with your business." 

"Thanks again," Hermione called as the old witch walked away. That took care of not but two of her chores for the day, and for that, she was very grateful. The next order of business was for her to go to Gringotts so that she could change the rest of the Muggle money she had into Wizarding money, as she had precious little of that. Happier now that one of her earlier problems was now resolved, she went down the rest of the stairs, humming softly to herself. As she stepped out on to the pavement outside, she looked around to see if she could get her bearings. 

It turned out that Harry had chosen a nice neighborhood not too far from Diagon Alley to live in. Hermione had to smile at that. It seemed as if Harry hadn't just taken the first flat that he had found in order to get away from his relatives but instead, had put a bit of research in deciding where to live. He wasn't completely oblivious to the world around him. Even though he was completely oblivious to her. Hermione sighed and started walking briskly to Gringotts. So what if Harry didn't think of her as a witch? That didn't matter, not really, in the long run. They were friends and that was what counted. He had done so much for her throughout the years that she just couldn't take out on him her frustration about the way he tended to ignore her. Besides, one couldn't choose who one fell in love with and it was simply her bad luck that she fell in love with a man who never gave her a second glance. Other witches had done the same before and had lived. She would do the same, taking it one day at a time. It had to get better eventually – this heavy feeling in her chest that made it so hard to breathe when she thought of not having him, of not ever getting the chance to hold him like she longed to – and when it did, she would certainly find someone to cherish her. 

The rest of her chores went quickly enough. There was no arguing with the goblins at Gringotts about the exchange rate for pounds, especially given the fact that they had a monopoly when it came to the legal exchange of Muggle money into Wizarding money. From there, she moved on to buying groceries, spending quite a bit of time there, so that she could stock up Harry's rather depleted kitchen. Once she thought that she had procured enough food to last them through the rest of the week, she returned back to Harry's flat, where she put everything she had bought away before turning to cleaning up the place. 

When that was finished, there was nothing else left for her to do except to wait for Harry . . . and to write a letter to send to her parents along with one to send to Ron. She promptly scribbled off a note to her parents, explaining to them that was she was at Harry's place and that she had decided to live there for now as it would be easier that way to find a job in the Wizarding World. Hermione wasn't sure whether her parents would buy that excuse. She suspected that her mum knew that she fancied her black-haired, green-eyed best friend and if her mum knew, then her dad did as well. Yet the excuse was plausible enough on its face and so they were likely to accept it. 

Hermione followed that up by writing a short letter to Ron, telling him of how she had moved in with Harry for the time being. She didn't know how Ron would take that news at all. On one hand, he no longer fancied her, not after that one disastrous date of theirs. Yet on the other hand, learning that his two best friends were now living together might make him feel left out and lonely . . . and unfortunately, there wasn't enough room for Ron to move in with them as well. Hermione sighed, wishing that they could all be together again as having Ron as a buffer between her and Harry would have helped her so much with her Harry obsession. She ended that letter with the suggestion that the three of them meet up for dinner some time soon. She couldn't set a date as she didn't know either Harry's or Ron's schedule, but she could start planning for a small reunion. She added a quick postscript to the letter to her parents, letting them know that she would be by tomorrow to pick up the rest of her things. 

_Send them now or later_, she debated silently. _I do want them to go out as soon as can be, but I do want to make sure that I'm here when Harry gets back too. I wonder how far the post is from here. If it's not that far and if there isn't a long line . . . but even then, I might not be fast enough._

Her internal ramblings were interrupted by the arrival of Hedwig, who was still with Harry even after all this time. "Care to deliver a couple letters for me?" she asked the owl. Hedwig hooted and stuck out her leg. Hermione took this to mean yes and attached both letters to Hedwig, who flew off to make the deliveries. With that done, there was truly nothing left to do except wait for Harry. 

She wandered around the flat, looking for something to clean before she lost her mind out of boredom. It wasn't very big, with only a single bedroom, a small living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom. At the sight of the shower, she remembered she had yet to take one for the day. Hermione was like that at times, forgetting to do simple, basic things when she had errands to run or chores to do. She pummeled her memory, seeking the answer to where she had left her bag the last evening and eventually received the answer that she had left it in Harry's bedroom. Blushing, she went in to retrieve it, mindful that she must look like a fright. _It's astonishing that no one ran away from me out of fear today_, she thought._ It's past time for a shower._

Hermione spent a blissful hour getting clean and changing into fresh robes, before proceeding to look up a few charms to make the sofa a bit more comfortable for sleeping. Hedwig had already returned by then, with a short reply from her parents, saying that they would talk to her tomorrow, but without a note from Ron. It took her but a few minutes to find the appropriate spells, and once they were cast, she decided that it was high time she got some sleep. 

When she awoke, it was to the sensation of someone stroking her hair while sniffing, as if trying to hold back tears. She opened her eyes and saw Harry kneeling before her, with disappointment clearly written all over his face. 

"Oh Harry." She sat up and struggled to pull him on to the couch. "You didn't get it?" she asked. 

"No," came his reply. "I didn't." 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. What happened?" 

"I . . . I don't know, Hermione. I caught the Snitch, I was the best there . . . but they chose someone else. When I asked Wood about it, he said that I'd been too good . . . and that their regular Seeker had threatened to walk if they signed me and that I wasn't good enough for them to take a risk as using me as their starting Seeker when the season starts. I . . . it's just . . . damn it! It's so bloody unfair." He screwed up his eyes and clenched his fists. "How the hell was I supposed to know that I shouldn't have tried my best? That doing so would only _lose _me the job?" 

Hermione sighed. "That is unfair and nothing I can say will make it better. I wish I could do something though . . . I really wish I could." She hugged him tight, and he buried his head in her hair. It felt so right being able to comfort him like this that she almost could not breathe. "It is their loss though. If you were that good, so good that their regular Seeker felt threatened . . . that says something I think. And I know that you'll find some team that will sign you and when they do, you'll be brilliant." 

"I know. It's just frustrating, to have got up so early, have tried so hard, and get that as a result. I'm beginning to wonder if I really want to play professional Quidditch if this is how the sport is like." 

"Do you really? You always said at Hogwarts how much you enjoyed it and—" 

"I do enjoy it. I enjoy playing it. There's nothing like flying if you ask me. But this isn't flying, this isn't playing Quidditch . . . it's some sort of political game, and I don't like that." He exhaled heavily. "Though I don't know what else to do. I do know that I don't want to become an Auror, and I'm not qualified for much else. I didn't get high marks like you." 

"Your marks were good," she told him. "You shouldn't put yourself down like that." 

"Even so, I can't compare to you." 

"You had other things on your mind rather than studying, so that's why I did so much better. And that's not the point in any case. If you want to do something else, I'm sure you're qualified." 

"Probably," he mumbled. "Maybe it's that I can't think of much else that I want to do with myself. Not that I have to, I suppose, if I don't want to. But I don't want to live off my inheritance . . . I want to do something and not just sit around all day." 

"I know." She ruffled his hair fondly. "Though I might add that you've certainly done enough in your life already. If you want a break, where you just take some time for yourself, you've more than earned it." That was the wrong thing to say. She could feel it in the way he stiffened and pulled away from her. 

"I don't think," he said heatedly, "that just because I happened to defeat one dark lord, with the help of a lot of people, some of whom died I might add, that means that I—" 

"No, you wouldn't," she said softly, meeting his stubborn glare. "And you wouldn't like it if people expected you to fight evil for the rest of your life either. I wasn't saying that you should laze around for the rest of your life. Just that after what you've been through, it's only to be expected that you might not know what to do next . . . and that you shouldn't fault yourself if it takes you some time to figure out what is it you want to do for the rest of your life." 

"Yeah," he muttered. "Though there's a part of me that doesn't want to give up on the whole professional Quidditch idea the first time something goes wrong." 

"Well, are there other tryouts? For the Seeker position that is?" 

"Yeah, at least one more, one for the reserve with the Montrose Magpies, and I hear that the Appleby Arrows might start searching for a new Seeker all together." He grinned after saying that, for the first time that evening. "And I guess I should give the other teams a chance, right? I mean, just because that's the attitude at Puddlemere, it doesn't follow that everywhere else will be the same. And if I can't get a position at any team, then I can start worrying about what to do next." 

"Exactly," Hermione said, nodding. 

"Thanks for listening." He gave her a quick hug. "Sorry to have made you put up with all that . . . I'm just not used to not succeeding in Quidditch, I suppose, and being told that I wasn't picked because I was too good . . . well, that was the last straw." 

"That makes sense to me." Hermione suddenly clapped her hands together. "And before I forget, let me give you back your keys." 

"So you were able to make a copy?" 

"Actually, I didn't have to. Mrs Stewart had an spare set, which she gave me . . . and she's not going to tell—" 

"The entire world that you and I are engaged? That's good. What ever possessed you to say such a thing last night? I'd thought you could have thought of something better than that." 

"Harry! You know I was never the best at lying!" 

"True, true. Looking back, it's amazing that your excuse first year about going to look for the troll was believed by McGonagall. Certainly, that wouldn't have been in character for you." Harry smirked at her and she stuck out her tongue in reply. 

"I still have it in me to surprise you. You don't know everything about me." She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. 

"Of that I have no doubt. You certainly surprised me last night." 

"Oh _that_. I am sorry about that. I really hadn't thought that I'd wind up in your bed . . . " _Wrong thing to say_, she thought. _And could you stop blushing? Or do you want Harry to ask why you're turning so red?_

"I just hope you don't market that charm. You could make a fair amount of money selling a charm that's guaranteed to land a witch in my bed." The smirk on Harry's face only grew wider. 

"And I thought you said that you didn't have an ego. Not every witch finds you attractive." _ Though I'm not one of them._

"Touché. And I don't have an ego, but right now, I'm starving. Is there anything to eat?" He bounced off, with so much energy even after his long day that it made Hermione tired to look at him. She summoned her strength to get up and follow him to the kitchen, not wanting him to make a mess of it after she had cleaned it from the morning. _Being able to look at Harry's arse without him knowing was only a side benefit, really,_ she thought while walking behind him and admiring the view._ Although that's probably damning it with faint praise._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

There weren't too many things that Harry could count on in his life at Hogwarts – aside from always having Potions with the Slytherins and other such things he could live without – but one of the more positive constants he had was that Hermione could be counted on to always be awake before him. That tendency of hers had disrupted a couple of the pranks that he and Ron had intended to play on her by getting up before she did and waiting until she came down to the common room. Invariably, they would find her, curled up in her favorite armchair with a book in front of her – and her wand pointed straight at them, with a glare that brooked no nonsense. When Ron had jokingly commented on how he and Harry would have to get up early to pull one over on Hermione, she had stonily replied that they would have to stay up all night. 

Harry almost fell over himself in shock when he came across her sleeping on the couch when he got up the next morning to make breakfast. 

Hermione looked very different sleeping. When she was awake, he could tell that she was always active. Even if she was sitting perfectly still, he knew that thoughts were busy racing across her mind. He didn't get that feeling, looking at her while she was sleeping. It seemed as if she was at peace, taking some time to relax even though it was only in her dreams . . . though from the smile on her face, she seemed to be enjoying her dream, whatever it was about. She looked like she was just an ordinary girl – and not Hermione – and that was surprising for he never thought of how much of what he viewed as her personality was grounded in the actions and words she used around him. It made him wonder just how much he didn't know about Hermione. 

Truth be told, he was of two minds when Hermione had suddenly appeared at his place and decided to settle in. He had been feeling somewhat lonely after leaving Hogwarts. He had grown used to having his friends around him at all hours of the day. And he would be the first to admit that it was nice to come home to Hermione after a rotten day such as yesterday. It was nice to have someone to talk to, to tell your worries and fears to, and know that they wouldn't think the less of you. He never had to fear that from Hermione. 

The downside to all this was, he couldn't have much of a social life with Hermione around. Or to be more exact, having her living with him was going to put a damper on his love life, what little there was of that these days. Bringing a witch home with Hermione around . . . he just couldn't imagine doing that. To be fair, however, it wasn't as if he expected to start dating any time soon. He didn't think he'd find a witch who would look at him instead of the scar for quite some time and so he supposed that all things considered, it was fine if Hermione stayed. Especially as he knew she wasn't telling him the whole story, which made him worry that not everything was well with her. Perhaps she had a reason to move back to the Wizarding world that she didn't want to divulge. If he could be of some help to her by letting her stay, it was worth it. She had saved his life by helping him to learn spells while they were at Hogwarts. He wasn't about to return her friendship by turning her out. 

_Oh stop gawking at Hermione as if you've never seen her, he told himself firmly. And go on to the kitchen to make breakfast so it'll be ready when she wakes up . . . and so she can't have another chance to burn the place down. Merlin! That was a close call last night. _ Harry smiled as he recalled how Hermione had tried to help him fix dinner yesterday evening and how they had both wound up diving under the table for cover. It was amusing to think that her skill in Potions didn't carry over to cooking as he would have expected. He would never say it to her face, but it was nice being better than her in something for a change. He liked being able to help her out, rather than always being the one on the receiving end. 

He assembled breakfast together in a matter of minutes. Harry noted with a grin the freshly ground coffee Hermione had bought. Some time before their last year at Hogwarts, Hermione had become accustomed to starting the day with at least one cup of coffee – and she had always detested the instant stuff, claiming that its flavor was awful. Personally, Harry thought coffee just tasted bad period. He only drank it when he needed to stay awake and instant coffee was quicker to make. Harry made a regular pot of coffee for Hermione, knowing that she would appreciate it, and was about to move on to setting the table, when a hyperactive ball of fluff rammed straight into his chest. 

"Ow!" Harry looked down to see a small, familiar owl frantically flying around before him. "Stay still, Pig," he told the owl. "I can't get the letter if you keep moving around." It took longer than it should have, but he finally extracted the letter from the overly-excited owl. _To the lovebirds_ read the lettering on the envelope and Harry barely stifled a groan. Either Ron was trying to be funny or he wasn't taking the news of Hermione moving in on him very well. 

"What's wrong?" 

Harry glanced over to the doorway to see that Hermione standing there, hair still mussed with sleep. Silently, he handed the letter over to her and she reached out to take it. She frowned as she saw the writing on it. Her brow furrowed as she read the note and Harry sat down at the table to wait for her to finish. 

"So, how bad is it?" Harry asked, unable to take the silence any longer. 

"Bad? Oh no, not at all. Just that Ron thinks that he's a laugh a minute again." Hermione sighed. "He is never going to let us forget this one, I'm afraid. If there's a bad joke he can make about it, he will." 

"Well, I'm thankful for that. I thought that—" 

"That he'd be mad at us?" Hermione shook her head disbelievingly. "Me and Ron as a couple . . . that was over a long time ago, Harry. It didn't work, it's sad but the truth and he's not going to be madly jealous or anything like that." 

"No, not that," Harry told her. "I know that. I thought that perhaps he'd be upset since we're together, just like old times, while he's not here along with us." 

Hermione laughed. "You have no idea how it sounds like to hear you talking about 'old times.' We're not even twenty yet!" 

"You know what I mean." He mock glared at her. "And it's a turn of phrase, everyone uses it." 

"I know, and I can see why you'd be concerned. But I told Ron that there's barely room to move in here and that it's so small . . . and well, see for yourself." She handed the letter back to him. "He told me that's what I get for barging in on you." 

Harry let out a sigh of relief as he read the letter. Hermione was right. Ron had taken the news well and was more concerned about getting in as many jokes as he could than anything else. Harry supposed that the situation they were in was funny, especially if you could look at it from the outside in like Ron could. All throughout their Hogwarts years, Harry and Hermione had been continually paired up whenever they were both single, despite all his protestations that they were just friends. Hermione seemed to take such rumors in stride and never paid them much attention, but Harry couldn't bring himself to use those tactics. It wasn't true that he and Hermione were together and he couldn't let the lie stand unchallenged. 

"Well, I'm glad that he didn't take it badly," Harry said after he finished reading. "I was awfully worried about that." 

"He's our best friend. You should trust him more." Hermione frowned. "And I do hope you trust me more." 

"I do . . . it's just hard sometimes for me not to worry . . . it's not that I don't trust you precisely but—" 

"You don't. Not completely." Hermione tilted her head. "Though I suppose it's hard for anyone to trust anyone else completely, with each and every secret you have." 

"I do trust you though," Harry insisted. 

"I know and it's enough," she said. "And I've waited long enough for my coffee already!" With a large smile on her face, she moved forward to make her normal morning cup. She closed her eyes and took in the scent of the coffee before taking a sip. "It has been too long," she continued, "since I had a decent cup." Hermione walked to the table and took the seat next to Harry. 

"You weren't complaining yesterday with the instant coffee," Harry noted. Deciding that_ he _had waited long enough to eat breakfast, he started to eat, hoping that the eggs were still warm. Fortunately, they were along with everything else he had made that morning. 

"The fact that I bought decent coffee yesterday when I was out shopping should speak for itself." Hermione followed his example and placed a couple pieces of toast on her plate, buttering them as she spoke. 

Harry nodded. "So . . . what do you think about Ron's idea of us all meeting up?" he asked, changing the topic to Ron's suggestion of a reunion. 

"His idea?" Hermione glared at Harry. "That was my idea, thank you very much, that I asked him about when I wrote to him yesterday. And of course, I think it's a good idea. I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise." 

"Hmm . . . not to mention the fact that in case I need to trim your ego down to size, it'll be good to have Ron as back up," Harry teased, making Hermione roll her eyes in response. "But seriously, when would be a good time for us to meet? Today?" 

"No, not today," she said in between sips of coffee. "I'm going over to my parents' house to pick up a few more things. I do think it's better to meet sooner rather than later . . . just not today is all." 

"All right. The next couple weeks are fine for me as well. I just need to know when so I can schedule everything else around it. Any time that's particularly good for you?" 

"No, so it's up to Ron, really. Can you write—" 

"Back to him and tell him that? Yeah, I will. Do you need any help, by the way? With moving your things over?" 

"If you have other things to do, then go ahead and do it," Hermione said. "But if not, I wouldn't say no if you helped me out." 

"Then I guess I will as I've nothing better to do. Besides, it will be good training I suppose. We all know that you can't pack lightly. Too many books that you can't live without." 

"Just for that, I'll make sure to give you the heaviest things." 

"Do your worse. There's always Wingardium Leviosa if you give me something that I can't possibly lift." Harry grinned. The day was going to be good. It had to be since he was getting to spend it with Hermione.   


**A/N**: Thanks goes out to **mary-jane**, **H + Hr**, **Animagus Steph**,** Fire in the Water**, **Helen**, **silverwand13**, **Lady Wolfsbane**, **Lindsey**, **DragoonKain**, **Rachel Potte**r, **Ali**, **jewel**, **Crinos-X**, **archforge**, **Acid Angel Tears**, **Silvermuse**, **mary**, and **twirlgirl04** for their reviews of the last chapter. ^_^ As always, feedback is always welcomed and I'd appreciate it if you would leave a review. 


	3. Chapter Three : Afternoon Repose

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer**: I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. The idea of a charm that takes you to the place where you're most needed is from the Xanth series, by Piers Anthony   


**Chapter Three: Afternoon Repose**   


Harry regretted those words he spoke earlier. Moving Hermione's things had completely worn him out. She hadn't been especially evil in giving him things to carry nor did she have too much stuff to move. The heaviest thing she had was Crookshanks (who he supposed technically should not be called a thing . . . at least not in Hermione's presence unless he wanted to risk being hexed) and she carried her pet back to the flat by herself. Perhaps it was simply that moving, in and of itself, was a tiring activity, no matter how few boxes one brought over. _That has to be it_, Harry thought, _as there is no other explanation for me being this tired. That I can think of, at any rate._

And there was still the problem of where Hermione was going to put all her things. When Harry had pointed that out, Hermione had declared that she could keep everything in their boxes for now. After all, she had said, it wasn't as if she had brought everything she owned with her, but only a few books and clothes to get along. Harry at frowned at that idea and had immediately countered with an offer to let his closet space. After all, he had said, it wasn't as if he was a clotheshorse and couldn't spare the extra space. She had bit her lip and frowned and responded that it would be really inconvenient. He had rolled his eyes and asked if anything could be more inconvenient than living out of boxes. 

_Hang all that about not knowing why I'm so tired,_ he realized. _ It's not the moving, it's the arguing with Hermione where everything should go. _ In the end, she had won and Harry wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. It wasn't the best solution but it would work fine for a short amount of time . . . which implied that Hermione wouldn't be staying with him forever and Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that either. It was comfortable, having her here and knowing that if he ever needed someone to talk to that she would be there. He knew that even if she moved out, that he would always be welcome to drop by her place with whatever problem he might have . . . but that wouldn't be the same. Harry sighed. He had probably grown too used to having his friends living with him while he was at Hogwarts. Most people would say that living with Hermione was different, he supposed, because she was a witch but to him, that was no real difference. They were friends and the fact that they were of the opposite sex didn't mean a damn thing. Or shouldn't rather. Harry groaned at the thought of how some people would react to the news.Certain reporters would certainly arrive at the wrong conclusions. 

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione asked from the kitchen. 

"I'm fine. It's been a long day, that's all," he replied. 

"Yeah, I know. Sorry about that." Hermione strolled back into the living room, carefully balancing two cups of tea. "Hopefully this will help us relax." 

"Thanks," he said as she handed him his cup. "I wouldn't have thought that I'd be this tired but I am." 

"I have to agree with you there," Hermione said. "I think it's official. I hate moving." 

"I'll second that one. And I think I'm getting more sore by sitting around here." Harry stood up gingerly and started to pace the room. "Do you want to go some place? Maybe out to dinner?" 

Hermione looked at him in askance. "My parents did invite us to stay over for dinner, remember? I thought you were too tired to—" 

"Too tired to eat? Never! I was just afraid that if we'd stayed there, you'd find more stuff to bring over," Harry teased. 

Hermione crossed her arms and pretended to pout. "Just for that, I ought to remember that something that I forgot to bring over and make you go get it," she threatened. "That would serve you right." 

"Except that I'm so tired I'd splinch myself. You wouldn't want that to happen, now would you?" 

"No, I wouldn't. But if you're that tired, how do you intend to go out to dinner?" 

"Walk of course," Harry said, spreading his hands out. "Well, I would suggest flying but something tells me that—" 

"No, no, no, and in case you didn't hear it the first three times, no. Haven't I ever told you how much I detest flying?" 

"Yes you have and I don't understand it . . . but I guess even Hermione Granger has to have flaws." 

"And my flaw is my abhorrence of flying?" she asked wryly. 

"That's one of them . . . and the main one if you ask me," he said with a large grin. "Don't worry though. I'm your friend so I like you in spite of that." 

"Thanks." 

"Don't mention it. So what do you think about dinner?" 

"Honestly? I think I'm too tired to even walk to out some place to eat. Not unless it's really close." 

"Then should we—" 

"Order out, please. If you know of any good places," Hermione said and then stopped to think. "Wait a minute, what am I saying? You're a wizard, of course you should have found at least one good place by now, what with you not liking to cook and all." 

"I wasn't the one who almost burned down the place last night," Harry retorted. 

"Technically, you were in the kitchen supervising me, so the blame can be contributed to you," she shot back. 

"Yeah, yeah, but I thought you knew your way around a kitchen since you cooked breakfast yesterday." 

"That was different," she said. "It was simple. I can manage simple dishes but once the recipe starts to get complicated . . ." 

"I hardly think spaghetti counts as a complicated recipe, Hermione." 

"Well, it is for me," she retorted. "And arguing about who's at fault isn't getting us anywhere . . . and I thought you were hungry? Not that I'm surprised. You must be needing ten meals a day, being a growing boy and all." Hermione outright smirked at him as she completed that sentence. 

Harry stopped in his pacing and drew himself up, with a quick retort on the tip of his tongue, begging to be used. Yet before he could open his mouth, his stomach growled and he thought the better of it. As much as he was enjoying himself, he was hungry, and he was never going to get to eat unless he let Hermione win. _ Besides,_ he thought, s_he's cute when she thinks she's winning. Especially with that way she wrinkles her nose when she thinks she has the upper hand. _ T_hough you'd never convince her of that. _ It was clear to anyone who knew Hermione well that she didn't think much of her looks and she thought she was plain. Ron had once remarked to him that perhaps Hermione was so obsessive about her marks because she felt she had to compensate for not being pretty. Harry didn't know if that was true or not, but he knew Hermione was wrong about her not being attractive. Of course, he never said as much, as that would surely get taken the wrong way even though it was only natural for wizards to notice a pretty witch. Just because he thought Hermione was pretty didn't mean that he thought of her as anything other than a good friend . . . though calling Hermione just a good friend wasn't being entirely honest. Not because she wasn't but more because that phrase got bandied about these days without having any real meaning to it. Hermione and Ron were his best friends . . . and that meant a lot more than it sounded like. Harry didn't know how he would have survived the past few years without them . . . and he didn't think he could live with himself if he ever did anything to lose their friendship. 

"So Harry? About dinner? Or are you not hungry?" Hermione's voice roused him out of his thoughts. 

"Dinner? Oh yeah, that's right, dinner. Feel like anything in particular?" 

"Whatever you like is fine. I'm not a picky eater," Hermione told him. 

"That certainly leaves us with a lot of options," said Harry. "Let me go get the menus and we can go from there." Harry walked towards the kitchen and with only a moment's pause, Hermione followed him. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

"Okay, so let me get your story straight," Ron said. "Tell me again just why you moved in with Harry." 

Hermione huffed and set down her copy of the _Daily Prophet_. In addition to her job hunt not going well, she got to deal with Ron at the same time. The Trio had made plans to meet up for dinner later tonight, but Ron had decided to come over early to talk to Hermione . . . though privately she thought he had other reasons for visiting her. "Like I told you before, I thought Harry might be a bit lonely . . . but he'd never admit it, you know that, so I thought I'd stay here with him for a bit." 

"Something's telling me that you're hiding something." 

"Not my fault if you're paranoid. And I have ever lied?" 

Ron rolled his eyes. "Let's see . . . there's that time first year that I seem to recall you lying to McGonagall . . . second year, I could have sworn you encouraged us to lie and steal some potion supplies . . . and you know what? I think you lied to us just about the entire year come third year . . . shall I go on?" 

"I fail to see what your point is here." 

"My point, Hermione, is that I'm not stupid. I know you're hiding something . . . and it has to do with your sudden decision to impose on Harry like this. Are you in some sort of trouble, Hermione? I asked Harry, but he said that you said that you're not but I think he's having a hard time believing that . . . I'm having a hard time believing that." 

Hermione leaned back in her chair. "Okay, everything's not perfect with me –like I have yet to find a job – but it's not as if I'm facing any major problems." 

"Then why move in with Harry?" 

"Because it'd be easier to—" 

"Bullshit Hermione," Ron said, rising from his seat. "You know that and so do I. You're a lousy liar so why don't you stop and tell me the truth. You can trust me. You know that. We've been friends for how long now? So, the truth now Hermione – why did you—" 

"Because he needs me," Hermione blurted out. "He really does. I know it." 

"That doesn't make any sense, Hermione. How can you know that? It's not like there's some charm to magically tell you who Harry needs . . . unless . . ." Ron's voice trailed off as he thought of what Hermione's motives could have been. "You're not thinking clearly, are you?" 

"I am thinking clearly, I can assure you on that much at least—" 

"You're in love with him aren't you? That's why you've been acting so strange!" Ron exclaimed, comprehension dawning on his face. "You must have it really bad Hermione, we've just left Hogwarts and already you can't live with him." 

"I'm not in love with Harry," Hermione insisted. 

"No need to hide your feelings about him any more. I suppose I should have figured this all out before. You always talk about him . . ." 

"I'm not in love with Harry. Get it through that thick skull of yours, Ron. Besides, I've talked about Harry before, when we were in Hogwarts helping him out with everything he had to face, and you didn't say anything then. So the fact that I talk about him occasionally now doesn't mean a thing." 

"Occasionally! Hermione, you've only talked about him this evening . . . and maybe you always talked about him incessantly before because you've been in love with him for a long time . . ." 

"Oh for heaven's sake! I'm not in love with Harry! How many times do I have to repeat myself before you finally get that?" 

"Don't bother repeating yourself, I'm not going to believe it anyway." 

"Thanks." Hermione folded her arms across her chest. 

"Don't mention it. But might I say that I'm feeling incredibly stupid right now? How could I've not seen this before? After all, they say a man and a woman can't just be friends." 

"That's nonsense!" 

"Is it?" Ron leaned towards Hermione, with a sparkle in his eyes. "I don't know about that. You and I couldn't just be friends." 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I hardly think that going to Hogsmeade together twice before deciding that we're mutually incompatible counts as dating, Ron." 

"That's not the point and you know it. The point is that we couldn't just stay friends. We had to give it a shot, even though we didn't have much of a chance of making it as a couple in retrospect. And so, of course you fell in love with Harry along the way . . . the way you moved in with him as soon as you could to stake your claim goes to—" 

"It was a charm! Okay, I used a charm to tell me that Harry needs me!" Hermione confessed, wanting Ron to shut up about her loving Harry before Harry came home to overhear their conversation about it. 

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Just how did you manage to use such a charm without Harry knowing?" 

"I didn't need to ask him. It's . . . it's a charm to tell you where you're needed to most and I used it and it sent me here . . . and that's how I know that Harry needs me. Otherwise, it would've taken me someplace else." 

"Not to cast doubt on your ability as a witch, Hermione, but I've a hard time believing that such a charm is possible," Ron said. 

"But it is! I researched it while we were at Hogwarts and . . ." 

"Then why not use it then?" 

"Wasn't sure how it would react with the anti-Apparition wards there . . . and I didn't want to be the first to find out." 

"That makes sense, at least." Ron sighed. "And are you sure that you got the charm right? That it would take you to the place, to the person that needs you the most? As that sounds more like a fairy tale, rather than real life. I think it's more likely that it took you to the person that you needed the most." 

"I know you said not to bother repeating it, but I can't just help myself. I am not in love—" 

"Hello Ron, Hermione!" Harry called as he entered the room. "And Hermione's not in love? Since when is that news? A veritable ice princess, our Hermione is." 

"Oh, she's in love. She's better than concealing it than you and me though. She's been in love for quite some time and it's starting to show through." 

"She is? Who's the lucky wizard? And how do you know it? She's not been acting any differently lately." 

"There are none so blind as those who do not wish to see. And as for the lucky wizard . . . why he's right—" 

Hermione sharply stomped on Ron's foot. 

"Ow!" Ron cursed fluently as he limped towards the sofa. "Why did you do that for?" 

"You know why . . . how could you go and say something like that to Harry?" Hermione glared at Ron. 

"I don't hear you denying that he's right, Hermione," Harry noted and she leveled her glare at him. 

"Oh honestly! Simply because I don't mention that he's out and out lying about the whole matter – which I think should be blazingly obvious – that doesn't mean that he's telling the truth. Besides, I've been living with you and you've not noticed anything different." 

"Only for a few days. And Ron might have some special insight into how you act when you're in love since you two once dated." 

Hermione covered her face with her hands. "I don't know about you two, but where I come from, agreeing to go to Hogsmeade together twice does not count as dating. And as for the Ron seeing how I'm like when I'm in love . . .trust me, I was never in love with Ron." 

"No, you weren't," Ron said softly. "Not romantically at least. Probably because you had this other bloke on your mind . . . not enough room in your heart to love him and me." 

"Ron. It wasn't like that." Hermione sighed. "And I thought that you—" 

"So who is this other man, Hermione?" Harry asked. "I know he can't hold a candle to Ron, whoever he is . . . and so why not give Ron another chance?" 

Hermione blinked. This was all moving far too quickly for her. First Ron accused her of fancying Harry . . . and now Harry was trying to set the two of them up with one another. _So this what happens when you have boys as your best friends instead of girls. Rather than trying to set you up with random blokes, they're busy trying to foist you off onto the other. And all because someone once said that that a witch can't be only friends with a wizard . . . which I supposed given the fact that I did have a couple dates with Ron and I'm sort of infatuated with Harry right now, that does have a grain of truth in it . . . though that's not the point. _ Hermione sighed. _And men always say that women are hard to understand! At least, we're not complete idiots who never, ever know what we want._

"She's not responding," Harry remarked to Ron as Hermione argued with herself. 

"I think she's not happy with you." 

"Why?" 

"You know the way you rather blatantly tried to wash your hands of her and foist her off on to me? Not good that." 

"I wasn't trying to foist her off on to anyone. I like Hermione and I like spending time with her. But I do think that you'd be a better match than whoever she's fancying at the moment . . . you've known her longer and you've been through so much together—" 

"Oh, this other wizard knows her just as well as I do. You'll just have to trust me on that one." 

"If you say so," Harry said, his tone clearly conveying the fact that he didn't think Ron was right. "But I couldn't help it . . . Hermione's mooning over someone she can't have – well, according to you at least as I've not seen it – and you're not over her yet and—" 

"I am over her!" 

"But you sounded so sad when you talked about her never loving you!" 

"No, I didn't! What makes you think that?" 

"You were speaking very quietly, Ron. Considering that you're usually boisterous . . . that really means something." 

"Just because I said something in a quiet tone of voice, that doesn't mean I'm sad!" Ron responded. 

"But it's not like you to be so quiet. Why not own up to your own feelings?" 

"All right, Lavender, Parvati. How did you manage to brew Polyjuice all by yourself and where did you stash Harry and Ron's bodies?" Hermione snapped when she realized what Harry and Ron were talking about. 

"She's back," Ron said to Harry. 

"You thought I didn't notice that?" 

"Never can tell with you. You're not too good at noticing things that are under your nose, Harry. Your track record is abysmal there." 

"And you're not too good at figuring out that I don't like being talked about as if I'm not here." Hermione glared at the both of them. "Since Ron has managed to confuse everyone in the short time he was here . . . I'm not in love with anyone, and Ron's not in love with me and he hasn't been. As for Harry, that's anyone's guess." 

"Oh he's—" 

"Do not even start to go down that road, Ron." The expression on Harry's face was enough to stop Ron from continuing along those lines. 

"If the two of you have had enough gossiping about my non-existent love life, I would like to go out for dinner some time this evening. Or should I let you two chatter while I get myself something to eat?" Hermione figured that the mere mention of food in front of her best friends would get them off that embarrassing topic. 

"No, no, we can talk and eat at the same time." Ron hurried to pull on his coat. 

"Amazing." Hermione applauded sarcastically. 

"Be nice," Ron said. "Or at least try and make an effort towards being nice if you can't manage that." 

"Yeah," Harry piped in. "You used to be such a sweet girl. What happened?" 

"Started running with the wrong crowd. Believe you me, the blokes that I'm friends with are much, much worse than I." 

Ron rolled his eyes. "We've been a bad influence on you," he said. "So where to for dinner?" 

"Erm . . . anywhere's fine with me," Harry said. "Where do you two want to go?" 

"I don't care, so long as the food is fast as I'm getting hungry." Ron looked at Hermione. "Have anything in mind?" 

"Mind going to a Muggle restaurant for once?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at her best friends. "Though I'm not sure if I can trust you there." 

"I don't see why not. I know how to behave myself in public." Ron looked down at Hermione with an innocence she didn't find credible. 

"Oh, it'll be fine, Hermione. We know how to behave. And if Ron acts strangely in a Muggle restaurant, we can always let him know subtly by mashing his toes or something." Harry looked at Hermione, his brilliant green eyes boring into hers. "Trust me on this one, okay?" 

"Okay," she sighed. It was so easy to trust him when he looked like that. She knew that he wouldn't let anything hurt her, that he'd do everything he could to help her out. 

The only problem was that she knew that he'd do the same for any friend of his. She was very happy to be his friend, certainly her life would have been so much different – and poorer – if she never met him, but sometimes she wished that she looked better or that she had a better personality, or anything really that could make him notice her as a woman. At the same time, she hated herself for feeling so inferior because of a wizard; she felt as if she should be above worrying about how to catch a man's attention and wishing that she was prettier. 

"Hermione are you all right?" Ron waved his hand in front of her face. "You've been staring off into space for several minutes." 

Hermione flushed, silently grateful to Ron not calling attention to his suspicion about how she felt towards Harry. "That's because I was thinking of where we could go eat," she quickly lobbed back. "Because you two are just tops at deciding where to eat." 

"I told you I don't care so long as it's quick," Ron said. "I've my priorities straight in life." 

"Then I'm sure you'll find Japanese to be acceptable. There's this one place that I—" 

"I refuse to eat raw fish." Ron crossed his arms. "I put my foot down when it comes to eating slimy stuff like that." 

"Fine, there're other things there." Hermione grinned evilly. "Though I suppose if we ply you with enough beer, we could get you to eat something like raw squid." 

Ron looked pleadingly at Harry. "You'll watch out for me, right? You'll make sure that the evil witch won't slip me anything like that?" 

Harry shook his head. "Only if you do the same for me." 

"But that would mean not drinking . . ." 

"Exactly." 

"Shall we get going?" Hermione asked, pulling on her coat and getting her purse. "It'll be—" 

"My treat," Harry quickly said. He continued before Hermione could protest. "You two can argue about who'll pay the next time we get together, okay?" 

"Sounds good to me," Ron said while Hermione nodded her head. "So if that's all settled, let's get going."   


**Author's note:** Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out, but school has picked up lately. I'll try to write the next chapter quickly, but no promises. Anyway, I'd appreciate it you could leave a review to let me know what you thought of this chapter. 


	4. Chapter Four : Illusion

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer**: I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. The idea of a charm that takes you to the place where you're most needed is from the Xanth series, by Piers Anthony 

**Chapter Four : Illusion**

"I'm getting sick just by looking at this menu," Ron declared, looking slightly green. "And I thought raw fish was bad! But raw eel?" 

"I didn't need to hear that Ron," said Harry. He quietly put down his menu. "I'd ask you to order me something safe, Hermione, but I'm beginning to think that they don't serve anything like that." 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you two! You're acting like children. Trust me, sushi is perfectly safe to eat." 

"It's not that I don't trust you," Harry said with a wry smile, "but I'm not sure if I trust the chefs here." 

"Careful Harry, you don't want to say that too loud." Ron dropped his voice down to a dramatic whisper. "I saw one of the cooks here earlier and he looked like he could take you apart with his bare hands." 

Hermione sighed audibly. _Maybe it hadn't been such a great idea to take Harry and Ron here_, she thought. _With all the grief I've been getting about them even trying sushi . . . hmm, maybe they'll try it after a few drinks._ "How about we get something to drink first?" she suggested. 

"Is it safe to? I mean, don't they have worms in their beer here?" 

"Oh god." Hermione dropped her head against the table. _Is it too much to ask for Ron not to be so . . . so . . . so stupid? _"No, they don't put worms in their beer. I think that's tequila and tequila isn't Japanese." 

"If you're not sure what it is that they put worms in . . ." Ron started. 

"Well, excuse me for not knowing every single type of alcoholic beverage that exists in this world. I'll make sure to find some books on the subject the next time I go to Flourish and Blotts." She was quickly nearing the edges of her temper. Taking a deep breath and telling herself that she didn't want to start an argument, she turned to Harry and asked, "Would you like anything to drink, Harry?" 

"Just beer would be fine," he agreed quickly. "And Ron'll have one too." Hermione whipped around to look at Ron's reaction while Harry mouthed furiously at Ron to nod his head and agree. 

"Yeah, that's fine." Ron smiled weakly. Hermione ordered their drinks and excused herself from the table, with a sharp look at both of them. As soon as she was out of sight, he slumped down. "Why did you have to agree to that? And make me agree to boot? You know she's trying to get us pissed so we'll actually eat some of that raw fish." 

"Better that than having her thinking up of interesting hexes to use on us all evening," Harry countered. "Besides, if she's wrong, you'll finally get a chance to say 'I told you so' to her." 

"First you say that I should drink so Hermione won't hex me and then you say that as a benefit I could tell her 'I told her so'? I can't think of anything more likely to get her to whip out her wand and start throwing around spells!" 

"Pipe down, Ron!" Harry urged. They were beginning to get strange looks from the other patrons in the restaurant. 

"Sorry, I didn't meant to get so loud there," Ron said contritely. "You have to admit that you weren't thinking clearly back there." He looked at his friend suspiciously. "There isn't anything between you and Hermione, is there?" 

"No!" Harry blushed as the stares returned, this time focusing on him. 

"No need to get excited about the subject. Ah thank you," Ron said to the waitress as he accepted their drinks. He leaned back in his seat as he took a drink. "If there was any worms or other disgusting things in here, I'd be able to taste it, right? As it seems fine." He took another long drink. "And now that you've so definitively answered the question of there being anything between you and Hermione . . . the next one is do you want there to be anything between you two?" 

Harry took a long drink before answering. It was going to be a long night. "No, I am not interested in Hermione like that. We're just friends, like I've told you before. So if you're interested, I won't stand in your way." 

"Oh that's it." Ron downed the rest of his beer in a single gulp and signaled the waitress to bring him another one. "No, I'm not interested in Hermione, thank you very much. We tried that once and it didn't work out. I think she's a wonderful witch and whoever wins her heart will be a lucky man . . . and I can't help but think that perhaps you're in denial over your feelings for her." 

Harry snorted. "And I think _you're_ in denial." 

"So any feelings at all for—" 

"She's like a sister to me." Harry's tone brooked no argument. 

"All right, I'll accept that for now. So . . . how's living with her been like?" 

"Let me guess, you're expecting me to say something how I can't imagine how I could ever live without her or something equally cheesy. Sorry mate but keep your day job. You'll never make it as a matchmaker." 

Ron shrugged. "You never know. And you haven't answered the question. How's it like to live with Hermione?" 

"Well, I'm not going to say it's a dream come true. It's really inconvenient at times. She has this awful habit of taking a shower just when I really need to use the loo." Harry shook his head. "The first time I thought it was coincidence, but now I'm wondering about her sense of timing." 

"Oh . . . so any other horror stories?" 

"No. Why, were you expecting some?" Harry asked. "This is Hermione after all. It isn't the best set up, considering that my flat isn't large . . . but sometimes I get the feeling that . . . " 

"That what?" Ron leaned forward. "Has she been acting strangely?" 

"No. Well, aside from the fact that she decided to move in with me all of a sudden . . . and that's enough on its own to make me worry." 

"Yeah, not surprised there mate." Ron pushed his beer away nonchalantly. He tended to be a very talkative drunk, and he didn't think it would be prudent for him to drink too much while he was alone with Harry. If he even hinted to Harry about his suspicions regarding Hermione's feelings, Hermione would make his life a living hell, to put it mildly. 

"Has she told you anything?" Harry pressed. "Each time I ask her if everything is all right, she just smiles and nods. And it's bloody hard for me to believe that. Why would she move out of her parents' house if everything was fine?" 

"She's told me that she did that as she thought it would be easier to find a job in the Wizarding World," Ron replied. "And if you think about it, that makes sense. She can more easily apparate from your flat and use your fireplace in case anyone wants to ring her about a job. It would take a lot of paperwork for her to be able to do the same at her parents' house." 

"Okay, I can accept that. But why me? Surely you've more room over at the Burrow." Harry sighed in frustration. "And I realize that I'm sounding like—" 

"No, no, I understand, Harry. Your flat is small and so it must be hard living with anyone else there. I think Hermione chose to live at your place because . . . . to be completely frank, she doesn't get along too well with my mum. You know how it is." 

"Some advanced notice would have been nice. I could have looked for a larger flat." 

Ron hid a smile behind his hand. Despite all his protests, Harry would go to great lengths for Hermione and in Ron's book that meant something. "She probably didn't think that she'd need a place to stay in the Wizarding World herself," he responded evenly. "And who knows? Maybe she did have some problems with her parents and doesn't want to admit to it? She'll tell you eventually if that's the case. She always tells us . . . eventually. Like with the Time Turner in our third year." 

"Yeah, she does. Sometimes I wonder if she—" 

"If I what?" Hermione sat down back at the table. "And I'll hazard a guess that you two were talking about me behind my back." 

"As always, Hermione. Nothing bad of course." Ron winked roguishly at her. 

"Oh, of course! So would you mind leaving us alone for a bit Ron? Considering that you and Harry got a chance to talk about me, and we had our chance to talk about Harry earlier . . . I think it's your turn." 

Ron bit down on an oh-so-tempting retort about what his friends would do when left alone. Hermione had really left herself open there but he had to remain silent. Or at least not say what he would really like to say. "I should think that you two get enough opportunity to do that, seeing as you live together. But back to the topic of food – can we convince you to order something safe for the both of us?" he asked. 

"Of course," she answered. She flipped open her menu and began to scan down the list of chicken and beef entrees, knowing that neither of her boys would take kindly to her ordering them anything raw. _ And they _are_ still boys. Not willing to try anything too new really. Though I seem to recall reading some place that people's tastes get set early in childhood . . . that if you're not accustomed to eating spicy food when you're young, you'll never get used to it. I wonder if it's too late already for them._

"Are you going to order any time tonight?" Ron asked. "Or should we consider sending out for pizza?" 

Hermione rolled her eyes. _I seem to do that a lot around Ron . . . well around both the boys, but less often around Harry. Maybe because he's more adorable than Ron when clueless? _She blushed at that thought. _And I think I'd best change my train of thought unless I want to make a fool of myself in public. _ "You sure know how to charm a girl, don't you?" she shot at Ron in an effort to distract herself. 

"Yes, but to my eternal despair, it never worked on you." 

"I wonder why." 

"You know, it's been a long day for me," Harry said. "And I would very much appreciate it if we could get back to the subject of ordering, especially as the waitress is heading back this way." 

"As you wish." Hermione quickly glanced one last time at the menu and missed the look exchanged by the boys. 

"Are you ready to order now?" The waitress asked as she stopped before their table. "Or do you need a few more minutes?" 

"Oh, we're ready now," Hermione said. "I'll have the _chirashi _and these two will have . . . _oyakodon_. Because that's what their conversation is like." 

The waitress nodded as she took down their orders, clearly not understanding what Hermione was talking about. As soon as she left, Ron leaned over towards Hermione. 

"What did you mean, that's what our conversation is like?" 

"Oyakodon is a dish with both chicken and egg. So I'm saying your conversation is like that age-old question of which came first – it never ends and it loops around in circles constantly." 

"You know, Hermione, sometimes your remarks are so smart, no one else could possibly understand them." 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron. "I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment." 

"But it was." 

"And why should I believe that?" 

"Because you love me?" 

"Love," she said, "is a wholly inadequate word to describe what I feel for you. Not that I don't care for you . . . but sometimes I feel like you're my little brother who I have to put up with." 

"Odd that, seeing as I'm older than you." 

"By only six months." 

"It's still six months." 

"But you're a boy—" 

"A man, Hermione. I'm a man," Ron said. 

"Same difference." 

"It's a world of difference, isn't it Harry?" 

"I'm not going to get in between you two on this one," Harry said hurriedly. 

"You disappoint me. What kind of best friend are you?" 

"The kind that would like to live to see his next birthday," Harry said with a straight face. 

"Really? Never noticed that before," Ron parried back. "But in any case, six months is six months. You should think of me as your older, not your younger, brother, Hermione." 

"Ah, but as I was going to say before I was interrupted, you're a boy—" 

"Man." 

"Same thing." 

"There's no real point debating that with you, is there?" 

"Anyway, as a boy you tend to grow up more slowly than girls do. So it doesn't matter if you're six months older or six _years _older . . . or even sixty years for that matter On a mental development scale, you're younger than me and so I think of you as my younger brother." 

"Is that so?" 

"Yes, it is." 

"Well, that's too bad." 

"Why?" 

"Because an older brother would sort of be bound to feel responsible and tell you about that Ministry position that opened up. But younger brothers are infamous for being irresponsible and—" 

"Ron! Tell me!" Hermione latched on to his arm and began to shake it. 

"I'm sorry, Hermione, truly I am, but I can't seem to recall it—" 

"Tell or else I'll—" 

"Hex me? Isn't that childish? What sort of example are you setting for your younger brother?" 

Hermione sighed and crossed her arms. "I wasn't about to threaten to hex you. I'll just tell your mum about the time that you decided to break out—" 

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "You promised never to tell anyone about that!" 

"Did I?" she said. "I can't seem to recall ever making such a promise." 

"What did you do this time around, Ron?" Harry asked. 

"Sorry, mate, it's a secret. From everyone." 

"Not from Hermione." 

"That's because I have horrid luck at times," Ron sighed. 

Hermione smirked at Ron before turning her attention to Harry. "Oh, it was absolutely hilarious. You see, he—" 

"Hermione, please!" 

"But why? Surely, there's no harm in telling Harry." 

"Tell Harry what?" 

"Nothing!" Ron took a deep breath to calm down. It was very unfair of Hermione to use that against him, but there wasn't much he could do. "Besides, we were talking about whether Hermione should apply for that position at the Department of Mythological Menaces." 

"Really?" Hermione clasped her hands together excitedly. 

"Yes really. I hear it's some sort of research position . . . that they want to subdivide the duties of one of their specialists or something like that. Dad knows more about it. He's the one who mentioned it to me, and said he'd recommend you if you'd like." 

"Oh, thank you, Ron!" Hermione beamed. 

"Don't thank me, thank Dad. And don't mention it, okay?" 

"Can't even remember what we were talking about before." 

"Good." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The idea of going to a Japanese restaurant hadn't been that bad at all. In fact, Harry had enjoyed his food and the company. But then, he always liked being with his best friends Well, most of the time. 

What had been a very bad idea was the contest after dinner to see who could drink more sake. He should have put his foot down from the start with that one. Of course, that might not have done much good, seeing how Ron had been teasing Hermione about not being able to hold down her liquor. Though he would have thought she was more sensible than that— 

Certainly more sensible than to drink so much that he wound up having to carry her home piggyback. _While impaired_, he noted mentally. _Very impaired But it was worth it. Drank both of them under the table. Lightweights, the both of them. But those stairs look scary. And she weighs a ton . . . oops, didn't say that out loud, did I? Though doesn't matter, she's sleeping anyway. And drooling. On my good shirt. Not ladylike at all, that_. He grunted as he shifted Hermione so she was more centered on his back. If he was going to attempt those stairs, he ought to be as balanced as possible. 

"We need to put you on a diet," he remarked to the sleeping Hermione. "You're much too heavy now" 

_Thump_ went Hermione's fist against his chest. "Heard that," she mumbled. 

"Ouch. You pack quite a punch." 

"Not nice to say that." 

"Not nice to make me carry you home." 

"Didn't make you." 

"What was I gonna do – leave you there in the restaurant? They'd have kicked you out in the streets." 

"Don't know that." 

"Don't need to know that." Harry stopped halfway up the stairs, needing to catch his breath. _This would've been easier if she was asleep_, he thought _She seems to weigh more when she talks._

"Sorry Harry," Hermione said out of the blue 

"Why?" he asked. 

"'Bout earlier. Shouldn't've teased you like that . . ." 

"Like what?" Harry was thoroughly confused as to what Hermione was talking about _ Figures_, he thought. _ Even when she's dead drunk, she can still outthink me._

"'Bout that thing with Ron . . . how he made himself a fool when at Hogwarts." 

"You're drunk. Can't hardly understand you," Harry sighed. "Was it really bad?" 

"Fucking hilarious. Almost killed myself laughing." 

"You're really drunk, aren't you?" Harry asked, not needing an answer. Hermione only spoke like that when she was absolutely wasted "Next time, I'll take the bottle away from you." 

"No!" 

"Yes. Not good for you to drink so much." 

"But that'd be mean." Hermione dragged out that last word. 

"So? You were mean to me earlier by teasing me like that." 

"Said I was sorry." 

"If you were sorry, you'd tell." 

"Not my secret to tell." 

"I guess so." Harry understood where Hermione was coming from, but he couldn't help but feel left out. 

"Sorry," Hermione said again. 

"I know you are." 

"No . . . I mean yeah . . . no, I mean sorry you feel left out." 

Despite the circumstances, Harry smiled. Hermione could be very perceptive when it came to his feelings. "Don't worry about it." 

"Always worry about you." She suddenly clenched her arms tighter around him, making it hard for him to breathe. "Love you," she mumbled. 

"Love you too," he said, "but would love you more if you let me breathe." 

"Oh right. Sorry." 

Hermione's arms relaxed from around him, and he gratefully took deep breaths of fresh air. "You're a very sorry person tonight, aren't you?" he said. 

"Yeah. I'm pathetic." 

"No you're not." 

"Yes I am. Can't do anything without you boys." 

"That's not true 'Sides, you'd do better if you'd stop worrying about us. We're grown men. We can take care of ourselves." 

"Can you?" 

"Of course we—" 

"No, not worried about Ron. He has his family to help him. Always worried about you." 

"Sorry." 

She snorted. "Now we're both pathetic." 

"Heh . . . maybe . . . but we do all right when we're together right?" he asked. However, the only reply he received was Hermione slumping her head against his shoulder. Turning his head to look at her, he saw that she had fallen asleep once again. _Should get going while she's asleep_, he thought. _That way she won't be as heavy. _With that thought, he continued on his trek up towards his flat.****

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the long wait between chapters, but I wanted to rework a few things to bring this in line with OotP. With that noted, future chapters will contain spoilers for the fifth book, just so everyone knows. In any case, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know what you thought of this chapter by leaving a review. Thanks! 


	5. Chapter Five : Vector

**Charming**

  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. The idea of a charm that takes you to the place where you're most needed is from the Xanth series, by Piers Anthony. As for the prairie oyster, it's a disgusting hangover cure recommended by Spike of Cowboy Bebop. 

**Chapter Five : Vector**

Being a methodical sort of girl, Hermione had been quick to assemble of list of rules to deal with living with Harry. 

Rule number one was to always get to the shower first. Always. No exceptions. Foul play was allowed in this area, so long as she got there first. If he ever asked, she would claim that she always rushed to the shower because she was worried about the hot water running out. However, she knew the real reason was rule number two. 

Rule number two was never, _ever_ look at a wet Harry. Never. Not even if she had to gouge out her eyes to avoid the sight. That wasn't because he looked that horrible. On the contrary, she didn't think she could maintain her self control if she looked. A wet Harry was such an irresistible combination of cute and sexy . . . it was best not to think of him that way at all. All she had to do was remember: wet Harry bad. 

Of course, that probably was_ not _the best way to put that 

Rule number three was to avoid a sleeping Harry. Harry, when asleep, looked so innocent and sad that it was hard for her not to comfort him. Sleeping Harry made her yearn to cuddle him and let him know that everything was going to be all right. It was ironic, but if she ever did that, it would probably scare him half to death. He would probably wind up wondering if she were herself or if he needed to put in a call to St Mungo's. Needless to say, avoiding a sleeping Harry was an important rule to follow. 

Upon reviewing her first three rules, Hermione had then decided it might be best just to boil everything down to one simple rule: don't look, don't touch! That did seem to be the end result of all of them anyway. Granted there could be problems with not looking at Harry – he was sure to wonder what was wrong with her and if he had done anything to make her upset. On the other hand, it was almost certain to prevent any embarrassing incidents . . . at least until she accidentally looked at him and wound up embarrassing herself because her Harry tolerance was low. It was then she decided to give up upon adding to her list of rules. 

At least until now. There was another candidate for a rule and it looked like it should be at the top of the list. Never, _ever_, **ever** get drunk while living with Harry. Because if you do, you just might wind up sleeping in his bed. Hermione quickly glanced around the room after she realized where she was. There was no mistake. She was definitely in his bed. 

_Though not with him_, she thought. _Damn. Don't know if I should be disappointed or relieved. On one hand, nothing else did happen between us last night . . . but that's the bad news too, isn't it? _She sat up, pulling the sheets up to cover her. _ If he's not here . . . that must mean that he's on the couch. Damn his sense of chivalry. Doesn't he know by now that I can take care of myself, that I don't want a knight in shining armor? At the very least, I don't want him sleeping on the couch because I'd feel guilty . . . not to mentioned tempted to jump him every time I passed by. If he's in his room, I have no such temptation._ Lazily, she looked at the clock. 

_Damn!_ She pushed the sheets off and swung her legs over the side of the bed. _Time to get going, or else I'll screw up rules one and two today as well. _Hermione stood up . . . or rather she tried to. Unfortunately, she was rather lacking in the coordination department this morning and no sooner did she stand, then did she fall back down again, landing hard against the floor. 

"Ow!" she exclaimed. _ This is a fine mess I've got myself into. How am I going to get to the shower first if I can't even stand on my own two feet?_

The answer to that question soon appeared before her eyes. There was a soft knock on the door, before the door opened, revealing Harry, already showered and dressed. 

_With wet wair. No, wet _hair_. Really adorable wet hair. Does that boy want to be jumped? Now that would be a headline. The Boy-Who-Lived scarred for life – again! – from glomp by female best friend. Oh, but I would die happy._

"Um . . . Hermione, are you all right? Do you have a hangover?" Harry asked, concern leaking through his voice. 

_If I did, you'd have cured it_, she thought. _But I shouldn't say that, should I? I wonder if I should act very incapacitated so he'll have to help me and I can – no! Bad Hermione! Don't think that way!_

"Hermione? Are you okay? Can you answer me please?" He knelt down in front of her, peering into her eyes. 

"Huh?" she asked blankly. _Oh that's right. Stop staring at Harry. Get something for hangover before the headache to end all headaches starts. Or worse – you do glomp him in his bedroom. _She turned red. _Damn! Don't think like that, Hermione!_

"I'm fine," she said. "Okay, not completely fine but fine as soon as I get a prairie oyster in me." 

"I don't know how you can stand those things," he remarked, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 

_Damn, he looks good when he does that. Okay, and that is it. I simply must spend the rest of the day away from him. _ "Could you help me up?" she asked. "I don't think I can make it into the kitchen on my own." 

"I know you can't," Harry said wryly. "Though it's fine. There's no stairs to climb up like there were last night." 

"Stairs?" she asked. 

"You know, Hermione. The stairs leading up to the flat." 

"Oh." Hermione stopped talking so she could concentrate on getting up with Harry's help. And without touching him more than necessary, she warned herself. Once upright, they started walking towards the kitchen. "Thanks for helping me out last night . . . and this morning," she said. 

"Don't mention it," he replied. "Though I hope you don't make a habit of trying to out-drink me when we go out together. You drooled all over my shirt while I was carrying you home last night." 

_That's no surprise, I always drool over you._ Hermione snorted at that thought. 

"What was that for?" Harry asked. 

"Oh . . . you say that as if you've never been drooled over by witches before," Hermione said, covering up her real thoughts. 

"Ah . . . well . . . no comment." Harry flushed red. "Though I must say, I didn't expect you to snore." 

"I do not snore!" 

"Trust me, you do. Sounded like a little pig, you did." 

"Harry!" 

"What do you want me to do? Lie?" 

"Yes! I mean no! Argh!" Hermione considered getting up to pound on him, but thought the better of it _Besides, pound . . . don't want to think like that, Hermione. But I do have to do something about that remark . . . fortunately, he's in kicking distance. _ She settled for kicking viciously at his ankle. 

"Ouch!" Harry backed away from her. "What was that for?" 

"You know what it was for! I do not snore!" 

"If you prefer to believe that . . ." 

"That's not funny." 

"It's not? By the way, still need a hand up?" He gallantly offered a hand to her. Glaring, she accepted it, and he hoisted her up. "You've been putting on some weight, haven't you?" he muttered under his breath. 

"What was that?" 

"Erm . . . I said that you must have been—" 

"Putting on some weight?" 

"Gah! No, of course not!" 

"Okay, that makes me feel better. If you'd lie about what you just said, you'd lie about me snoring last night." 

"That wasn't a lie." 

"You know this is the first time I've ever seen a bloke insert both his feet into his mouth at the same time." 

Harry looked sternly at her. "The correct term for my earlier comment regarding snoring is that I was_ teasing_ you, Granger. Or is that no longer allowed?" 

"I don't recall that ever being allowed." 

"Like tickling?" 

"Don't you dare!" 

"You know I would dare." 

"Not right now, you won't. Not unless you want to see my dinner again. And it would really be on you." 

Harry made a face. "Good point. So, want your usual hangover cure?" 

Hermione sighed. "Nothing works better. Though it tastes awful." 

"I don't know how you stand those things myself." He carefully led Hermione over to the sofa, making sure not to jar her – or her stomach – in any way. "One prairie oyster, coming right up." He scurried off to the kitchen, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts. 

Most of which were very naughty thoughts. 

_Okay, stop that. Now! _Hermione quickly shook her head, and then regretted it. _Ouch. Okay, that was a bad idea when you've got a hangover that's starting to kick in. I hope Harry hurries up with that prairie oyster. _She sighed. _But he really looks too good for this early in the morning. I'm just surprised that he's not wearing a sign that says . . . okay, very bad thought there, must not think it . . . too late. I have got to get out of the house today . . . but how? I'd rather be shopping, but I don't like shopping by myself and Harry knows that and so that won't work. I could go to the library I suppose . . . no, definitely not, I'd keep thinking of the stacks and what would be fun . . . next idea, Hermione. Oh, I know! I'll visit my parents! No better way to crush anyone's libido by a quick visit home to mum and dad. _ She smiled as she leaned back into the sofa. _ So that's settled. Once I get ready, it's off to visit home._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Though it was hard to believe, Hermione had somehow managed to forget one very important rule: _never look at Harry when he wants something from her._ When that happened, he was certain to do this puppy dog look (which she suspected to be artful) that made it very hard for her to think things through and say no. 

To be completely honest, she had never been able to start thinking when she saw that look at all. She had always just nodded and said yes – though half the time, she regretted it. Sort of like how she was regretting saying yes when Harry had asked to tag along with her when she went home. Hermione wasn't certain why he had wanted to come along. She suspected that it was because he (and most likely Ron) thought that things were tense between her and her parents. _Of course, _she reflected to herself, i_t could be because he's tired of eating out or cooking himself. That means Dad has to cook for one more, which won't make him happy . . . not that he was happy to see Harry to begin with. _Hermione sighed. _Oh well. Harry never did have much of a sense of self-preservation. If he makes it out tonight, it'll be a miracle. Especially after Dad asked for help in the kitchen._ Hermione stopped that train of thought and tried to distract herself by paying attention to what her mother was saying. 

"Though he does look to be a very nice boy," her mum said. "But even so, I do worry about you living alone with him." 

"Oh Mum," Hermione said. "I'm fine. I've known Harry for how long now? We're good friends, we've been through a lot together, and there isn't anyone who I trust more." 

"Really?" Her mum raised her eyebrows. "Friends, you say? That must be your new slang. In my day, we called it—" 

"Mum!" Hermione exclaimed. "We _are _simply friends – good friends. Is that so hard to believe?" 

"But it is a one bedroom flat, is it not?" 

"Yes." 

"So where do you sleep?" Mrs Granger asked pointedly. 

"In the living room," Hermione replied succinctly. 

"You can't expect me to believe that." 

"It's the truth." 

"But I've seen how you look at him. And how he looks at you. Oh, I'd wish you'd just tell me the truth. Your dad would go easier on him if you two were just out in the open, rather than pretending as if there's nothing there." 

"But there is nothing between us." _Or rather, I wish,_ she thought suddenly. _Gah! Bad thought, bad thought! And at my parents' house! How . . . ick!_

Her mother directed a stern look at her. "I'm not going to ask what you mean by that, as I probably do not want to know." 

"Mum!" 

"If you don't want to tell your father and I about you two yet . . . well, I can't say I understand as you know we'd be supporting. And I hope you know I always thought Harry was a better match for you than Ron – at least that boy knows how to cook as I'm afraid you inherited my ability to cook—" 

"Or rather lack thereof," Hermione interjected. 

"Yes, yes," her mother agreed. "I can't cook, and neither can you. But what I'm trying to say is . . . that what really matters is that you're happy, and if you're happy, neither of us would complain – and so I don't see why you feel like you have to conceal your relationship from us." 

"I'm not concealing anything, Mum. We are just good friends." 

"And you never thought of him as anything more?" 

Hermione blushed. "I . . . well, that is to say . . . I mean that . . . erm . . ." 

"Say yes, dear, rather than trying to fool yourself like that. Because you're not fooling me. So if you feel that way about him, why aren't you together? Because it's bloody obvious that he's mad about you." 

"It's not like that. We've been together for so long, that it's only natural for us to occasionally have such thoughts . . . but they don't mean anything at all, in the end." 

"Believe that if it gives you comfort." Mrs Granger sighed and looked away from her daughter. "Though I disagree. In the end, I think, you'll regret it if you leave it as it is and never take a risk. Because if nothing else happens, it's better to know than to always wonder."   


**Author's note: **Well, this one is out faster than the last -- let's hope I continue to improve, ne? Anyway thanks to everyone who has reviewed the previous chapters. I really do appreciate it. And if you could take a bit of time to let me know what you thought of this chapter, that would be great. ^_^ 


	6. Chapter Six : Trust

**Charming**

  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. The idea of a charm that takes you to the place where you're most needed is from the Xanth series, by Piers Anthony. 

**Chapter Six : Trust**

If there was one thing Robert Granger enjoyed in life, it was strategy games. He loved them all, from classics such as chess to the strategy RPGs for gaming consoles that were damned hard to import but that was better than waiting. And he didn't just like them – he was damned good at them as well. The one time his daughter's friend, Ron, had tried to challenge him at chess . . . well, Mr Granger had won in a bit over thirty minutes, and that was only because he was feeling generous. So it was no surprise that he was humming while he was working on dinner that night for he had employed one of his favorite tactics earlier: divide and conquer. 

The old techniques always_ were_ the best. 

For some reason or another, Hermione seemed to think that she could fool her parents. She had told them over and over again that even though she had moved into her best _friend's_ tiny little flat almost immediately after Hogwarts, there was nothing between her and Harry. And all of that with a straight face even. It was incredible. He could hardly believe that his daughter, who he had always thought was so smart, could think for even a second that she could fool her old parents with such a story. 

It almost made him wonder if Hermione really had been hurt that one time he had dropped her on her head when she was a baby. She had never shown any signs of being injured before – but it was best not to dwell on such topic. Anna, his wife, had always claimed that the drop had been bad for Hermione, and he didn't want to point out such proof to Anna if he could help it. Hence, he returned his attention to congratulating himself for such perfect plotting. 

Besides, it was rather pleasing to be swinging a big chef's knife while his future son-in-law was nervously paring potatoes across from him. Once he started questioning Harry, the boy was sure to crumble and tell the complete truth. This was the one time he was rather glad that his daughter didn't share his affinity for chess and the like. If she had, surely she would have realized the dangers in leaving her boyfriend alone with him if she wanted to conceal the truth. And right now, he saw no reason to delay uncovering the truth for any longer. 

"So Harry, how's living with Hermione been?" he asked, jumping right into the crux of the matter. 

"Good," the boy mumbled in reply. 

"Seems to me that your flat is rather small for two people," Mr Granger forged on. 

"Well, yes, it is, but we make do." 

"Oh?" 

Harry jumped, realizing how his last sentence sounded. "Well, er . . . I mean, we . . . um, well, it took a bit of getting used to but it's all right now. We were in closer quarters at Hogwarts." 

_Out of the frying pan and into the fire_, Mr Granger thought. T_his is sad. Hermione should have never let her boy out of her sight. _"I thought they had separate dormitories for boys and girls there," he remarked. 

"Yes, yes, of course," Harry uttered furiously. "But the dorms themselves were rather small, you know, and you get used to living so close with other people . . . " 

"The girls dorm as well?" 

"Yes, I—" 

"So you've been in the girls dorm then?" 

"No, no, they have alarms to prevent that," Harry replied quickly. 

"But that means you tried," Mr Granger pointed out. 

"Erm . . . well, both me and Ron tried, you see . . ." 

"That's where you should've said nothing. Though that would have been incriminating as well." Mr Granger put the meat he had been chopping into a bowl, and carefully placed his knife in the sink. "Though 'incriminating' sounds bad and I didn't mean it like that. Let's see, how to put this?" He tapped his fingers against the counter. "It sounds suspicious, you see, Hermione moving into your tiny flat as soon as she was able. She's told us many time over that you two are just friends but . . . it makes a parent wonder, you know?" 

"But we are just friends. Good friends, but only that," Harry said. 

"Please. You're only making it worse on yourself by lying." 

"But I'm not lying! And neither is she!" 

"Can you look me in the eye and tell me that my daughter has never been in your bed?" 

"Well, erm . . . actually . . ." Harry flushed deep red. 

"Why don't you just say yes and get it over with?" 

"It was only this morning, sir, and it wasn't like I was in bed with her or anything like that." 

"Really?" 

"Yes. I spent the night on the sofa." 

"My daughter not attractive enough for you? Not good enough for you?" If his future son-in-law (aka his current victim) wanted to pretend like that, it was time to play hard ball. 

"No, no, no," said Harry, waving his hands in front of him. "I didn't mean it like that of course. She's my best friend, and she's a lovely witch and it'll be a lucky bloke who gets to have her . . . but she's only my friends and I don't think of her as anything more and I know she thinks the same way and . . ." 

"She has you well trained," Mr Granger commented. "Very well. I won't question you further. Though we didn't act like that in my day. Anna's parents knew about me almost before our first date." He sighed, remembering those days. "Just let us know officially before we become grandparents, okay?" 

Beside him, Harry hung his head in defeat. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

It had been bad night. If Harry thought his conversation with Mr Granger alone in the kitchen was bad, it got even worse when Hermione had excused herself from the dinner table. Fortunately, that was now over and Harry vowed not to return there for a very long time. It wasn't that he didn't like Hermione's parents; on the contrary, he thought they were great, but he didn't want to volunteer himself for another night of non-stop torture any time soon. 

Sighing out loud, Hermione looked at Harry from out of the corner of her eye. "So, how bad was it?" 

"How bad was what?" Harry asked absently. 

"The interrogation." 

"Huh?" _Interrogation?_ he thought. _What is she talking about? Did I miss something . . or does she mean—_

"Don't tell me my dad didn't interrogate you," Hermione was already saying. "If he didn't, that would be a first." 

"Oh . . . I didn't realize you gave it a name." 

"Yeah, it has one. I hear all dads do it." 

"Oh." They continued on in silence for a while before Harry spoke up again. "I think what made it bad was the fact I wasn't expecting it." 

Hermione snorted. "You didn't expect it? I mean, it does look suspicious, don't you think? To them, I mean." 

"Yeah, it does. I should've been suspicious, at the very least, when your dad asked for my help in the kitchen." 

"And you so foolishly agreed to that." 

"Hey! I like making myself useful. Besides, I wasn't invited and so I thought it would be best if I helped out . . ." 

"You probably wound up making it worse for you. Did Dad have his big chef's knife out?" Hermione asked. 

"Yeah . . . I thought he was going to hurt me when I said . . . " 

"When you said what?" 

"Um . . . nothing." 

"That doesn't sound like nothing." 

"No really, it's nothing. Or rather, I said nothing. That we're just friends. He didn't believe me." 

"Surprise, surprise. Neither did my mum." Hermione sighed. "And I suppose you now know why I did move out." 

"Um . . . actually, no I don't. Aside from having certain assumptions about our relationship, your parents seemed rather nice." 

"They are nice people, good people. But . . . they can be awfully nosy, especially when it comes to me," Hermione said. "Sometimes, I hate being an only child. I think that perhaps they wouldn't always be so fussy if I had a brother or sister for them to worry about." 

"That could be true," Harry agreed. He sighed, leaning his head back to look at the sky. 

"Thinking about your next tryout?" Hermione asked softly. 

"Yeah, that's been on my mind lately. I suppose that's because it's next week," he replied. "Though after tonight, I feel like that it has to be easier than eating dinner with your parents." 

"Of course. There'll be no crazy fathers waving big knives in your faces." 

"To be fair, he never waved the knife at me. I wasn't scared a bit." 

"Not a bit?" 

"Not at all." Harry smirked before continuing. "You see, I had my wand up my sleeve so I knew I was safe." 

"Harry!" Hermione pounded his shoulder in mock anger. "That's my father you're talking about." 

"Yes, your beloved dad, who had me cornered in the kitchen while he interrogated me." 

"You set yourself up for that!" 

"Yeah, yeah, I know. See if I ever make that mistake again." 

"I should hope not," Hermione said. "And I am sorry about that. I suppose I should've warned you. To me, it seems blazingly obvious that there's nothing between us except friendship, but my parents tend to leap to conclusions." 

"You say that as if you never do the same." 

"Harry." 

"What?" 

"You're on—" 

"—Dangerous ground, yes I know," he finished for her. "I'm rather used to it, though. I've always been on dangerous ground around you." As he said that, he realized how true that was. He always had been on dangerous ground with Hermione. It was hard not to fall in love with someone who you've known so long and so closely. It didn't help right now that she looked absolutely beautiful, walking home tonight. He knew it was a cliché, but though Hermione wasn't traditionally beautiful, there was something about her that took his breath away. Perhaps it was in her eyes. She had big, beautiful brown eyes – it made him think that if a person's eyes were a window to the soul, then she had to be the loveliest person he ever looked at. 

It made him wonder what it would be like to kiss her. He could almost imagine her sighing softly, before she leaned into him and his kiss . . . finally giving up on the illusion that they were so close because they were friends – and nothing more. He thought perhaps it would be better to try and see – rather than always and forever wonder. 

But the moment was broken by Hermione pulling away from him to look at the stars. "I'm worried too, you know," she told him. "I know that tryout is hanging over your head . . . especially after last time. I worry about that too. I always seem to . . . well, it's easy to say that I'll face that problem when it comes but I seem to have this bad habit about borrowing trouble." 

With the moment over, Harry began to berate himself internally for his earlier thoughts. _What were you thinking, Harry? Too much listening to Hermione's parents . . . no, not that. Look at you! Go for a bit without any female attention and you're suddenly willing to jump to conclusions and on your best friend. How pathetic is that? Hermione deserves better than that, you prat. Like someone who can comfort her when she needs it, rather than just have to rein in his desires_. "You wouldn't be Hermione if you didn't worry so much," Harry finally managed to reply, hoping to comfort her. 

"But I suppose I'd be more fun to be with if I didn't always—" 

"Who knows if you would be? Besides, I like you just the way you are." Hermione turned her head away from him after he said that, making Harry wonder if she was blushing. "Don't worry about that so much, Hermione. I – and Ron too of course – like you the way you are. You have your faults, everyone does, but that doesn't matter. If you want to worry about something, worry about something else, like—" 

"Whether or not you'll get a bludger to the head in your next tryout?" Hermione asked wryly. 

"Actually, I was going to suggest worrying about your own job interview. I can take care of myself out there," Harry said. 

"You say that as if you've never been injured while playing," Hermione said, a tinge of exasperation in her voice. 

"Yes, I have been hurt . . . but that adds a bit of excitement to the whole sport, don't you think?" 

"I could live without that sort of excitement, thank you very much." 

"I'm not surprised that you say so," Harry replied. "So, what about that position Ron was talking about last night?" 

"Oh yeah . . . I'm meeting Ron for lunch tomorrow to talk about that. You can come along if you want," she told him. 

"And interrupt the lovebirds? I think not," Harry said, smirking. 

"Die Potter." Hermione soundly stomped on his foot. "Will you ever stop with your bad attempts at matchmaking?" 

"And here I thought you wanted me to make you a match," said Harry. 

"Only if you dress up as an old lady with a shawl over your head. If I get a photo of that and sell it, I won't need a job for the next year," she replied. 

"Merlin, I can see the headlines now." Harry buried his head in his hands. "That would be awful." 

"Yes, it would be." Hermione suddenly turned to face him and smiled. "And I think we've dawdled long enough. I hope you won't be this slow next week when it counts." 

"Don't remind me. I'm trying to forget about it," said Harry. 

"Scared?" Hermione asked. 

"Not at all." 

"More like terrified?" 

"That's closer to the mark," admitted Harry. "But enough of this. Race you to the Apparition point," he challenged her. 

"You're going down, Potter," she replied. Without bothering to wait for his answer, Hermione dashed off. 

"Hey!" he called. "You're supposed to wait for me!" 

"Consider it a handicap!" she answered back. Rolling his eyes, he set off after her. She had more than enough of a head start on him as it was.   
  


**Author's note:** As always, reviews to let me know what you thought are appreciated. Also, thanks to **Cool Like Ice**, **theph-34red**, **becka5**, **hajc**, **Fatima**, **bamaslamma29**, **Mella deRanged**, **Hermione2567**, **Korine **(it's been forever since we last chatted!), **L'eau Goddess**, **ears91**, **Ramy**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **yourfriendyou**, **chakitababi**, **TheSilverLady**, **Leah6**, **Star 19**, **BAD BOY HARRY**, **Blood57**, **sweatheart87**, and **:-D **for their reviews of the chapter five. ^_^ Doumo arigatou gozaimashita!   



	7. Chapter Seven : Still Alone

**Charming**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. The idea of a charm that takes you to the place where you're most needed is from the Xanth series, by Piers Anthony. 

**Chapter Seven : Still Alone**   


About a week later, Hermione was in bed, doing her best to ignore the noises from the kitchen. _Living with a morning person is not a good thing_, she reflected to herself. _ Especially if you're not at all a morning person but rather a night owl who likes to burn the midnight oil._

And that description fit Hermione perfectly. At Hogwarts, she had developed a reputation for being early to rise so she could get a head start on studying but it didn't come naturally to her. There were plenty of times when she would have gone on dozing for an extra half hour if Crookshanks hadn't been so insistent on being at six o'clock every single morning. The house elfs always leaving a huge pot of coffee by her bed in the morning helped her out a great deal as well. (Though little did she know that Lavender and Parvati had cajoled them to start the early morning caffeine service after seeing decaffeinated Hermione one too many times.) It was only during the summer holidays that Hermione reverted back to her natural schedule, which entailed sleeping in till ten and not going to bed until after three in the morning. 

Harry, on the other hand, was a morning person. Aside from that first morning, Hermione hadn't ever managed to wake up before him. Hermione supposed it was due to him living with those horrid Dursleys for too many years. He probably wasn't ever allowed to sleep in. That was another reason for her to hex them the next time she saw them. If it weren't for his proclivity for waking up so early, he would have made the perfect roommate. 

"Hermione?" Harry tentatively called. "Breakfast is ready." 

Hermione repressed a sigh. _At least if he can't help but get up so early, he could leave me well alone until I was ready to get up. It's not even eight yet! _she thought to herself. She rolled over and stuffed a pillow over her head, hoping that Harry would get the hint. 

"Come on, Hermione, it's time to wake up," Harry went on. "It's past seven o'clock." He paused. "Don't you think it's time for you to wake up?" 

Sighing, Hermione sat up and glared at Harry. "No, not for several hours yet," she informed him. Yawning, she stretched her arms out in front of her. "No need to get up so damn early if I've nothing to do." 

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "And imagine! I used to think you enjoyed getting up at the crack at dawn at Hogwarts! You always did every day." 

"Only because Crookshanks had to be fed," Hermione said shortly. 

"So getting up early to study didn't cross your mind at all?" Harry asked, his disbelief leaking through his voice. 

"I'd've never bothered with that if my roommates didn't complain about my staying up too late studying." Hermione yawned. "It's easier to stay up the entire night than to go to sleep and have to wake up all over again." 

"A true night owl, then?" 

"Hey! There are more of us than you think!" Hermione remarked indignantly. 

"If that's so, why do—" 

"Morning people rule the world?" Hermione finished the sentence for him. "Just you wait. One day, night owls will take over the world and end this practice of getting up too damn early." She felt that it would have been better to punctuate this by pumping her fist but unfortunately, she couldn't stop herself from yawning again. 

"Coffee?" Harry asked. 

"Please." 

"It's in the kitchen," he replied brightly. 

Grumbling, Hermione rose from her seat. Why was it that Harry was always so . . . so bouncy in the mornings? It was as if he enjoyed watching her struggle awake each day. She stretched once more, trying to get out the kink in her back and failing miserably. 

"Need a massage?" 

"You offering?" Hermione shot back without thinking. _Oh damn. Must get bad images out of my mind, she thought. Thank goodness Harry doesn't take showers in the mornings otherwise, I'd be in real trouble . . . _ Hermione then took a good look at him. _ Damn! He did! Oh why did I look! Why did he—did he? Damn! I've got to get out of this rut, or otherwise he'll notice! _ "Why are you up and ready to go so early?" she wound up asking, hoping that he wouldn't pay attention to her previous comment. 

Harry merely sighed. "I have tryouts today with the Magpies, remember?" 

"Oh that's right. I remember you talking about that." 

Harry sighed again. "And I suppose someone forgot about her appointment today?" 

"My appointment today?" Hermione repeated dumbly. _I had one?_ she wondered. 

"The one that Mr Weasley set up for you? With his old classmate?" 

"Oh! For the research position!" Hermione blanched. "How could I forget? And it's already seven! I'm running late!" 

"Your interview's not until ten," Harry told her. 

"I know! That's hardly any time at all." Hermione grimaced at his clueless expression. "It's the hair, you see. Takes me forever to get it presentable." 

"I think it looks fine as it is," Harry replied. 

Hermione flushed. _Okay, get your mind back on track._ "Thanks," she said, "but I'd feel better if I get it tamed." With that she made an about-face and rushed towards the bathroom. 

"What about your coffee?" Harry called out after her. 

"Later!" was the only reply he received. 

A little over an hour later, Hermione reappeared in the kitchen. "Thanks for getting me up, Harry," she said as she sat down. "I really ought to get an alarm clock since I can't count on Crookshanks any more." 

Harry handed her a cup of coffee. "Do you want me to stop feeding him in the mornings?" he asked. 

"No, no, please don't," Hermione said. "Even if I'd prefer that, he wouldn't and so that would never do." She took a sip from her cup. "What time is your tryout?" she asked. 

"At nine," Harry said. "And it lasts all day." 

Hermione winced. "Ouch! Do they really expect that many people?" 

"No, it's not that, exactly. It's that the tryouts are held for each position, one by one, to see how good everyone is and how well they play with the team. Seekers go last, but they want everyone there early so they don't have to go through all that introductory stuff each time they switch tryouts to a different position." 

"So those who go first only have to stay until—" 

"Until their tryout ends while the rest of us get to sit down and wait the entire day," Harry said. 

"So what time do you expect to get out?" she asked. 

"Around five or six?" 

"Oh, then should we meet you for dinner?" Hermione asked. 

"Dinner?" 

"Ron's meeting me after my interview, either to celebrate or commiserate," she said. Seeing the look Harry was giving her, she added, "And that doesn't mean what you think it means!" 

"That's what—" 

"Finish that sentence and I'll hex you," she threatened. 

"If you have to hex me—" 

Hermione pulled out her wand and placed it in front of her, glaring at an unapologetic Harry. "If I may continue," she said sharply. 

"Go on, go on, I'll behave." 

She gave an unladylike snort. "That'd be a first." 

"I've not said anything yet," Harry reminded her. 

"Only because I stopped you . . . but this is getting us nowhere. I was going to say that Ron and I can stop by and pick you up after tryouts, if you want." 

"I wouldn't want to inconvenience you," he said. 

"Don't worry, it won't be," she said, smiling. "So, that's settled then, right? Where should we meet you?" 

"Well, that's what I mean by inconveniencing you. It's at their home—" 

"If you think Ron doesn't know where that is and where the nearest Apparition point is, then you'd best forget about going anywhere and get back to bed, as you're not thinking straight," Hermione told him flatly. "This is Ron, after all! The Quidditch fanatic?" 

"Right, right." Harry stopped to think. "If he's the Quidditch fanatic, then what am I?" 

"The Quidditch lunatic who doesn't know when to stop," she said. "Honestly! At least Ron didn't purposefully go out and try to get injured on the field!" 

"Hey! Neither did I!" Harry protested. 

"Harry, you know as well as I do that when you're on the Quidditch Pitch, all you're thinking about is getting the Snitch." 

"Again, not true. I think about other things as well," Harry insisted. 

"You have to admit that you got injured in that damn game far more often than Ron," she pressed him. 

"That's just bad luck, not because I was trying to get injured," he replied. 

"Fine, fine. Though I hope you're more careful today," she said. 

"Have to be as it wouldn't do to break a leg on a tryout," he said a bit too cheerfully for Hermione's tastes. 

Hermione gave up. It was no use trying to convince either of the boys that the game was not worth risking their necks over. "So, see you afterwards then?" she asked. 

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "When will you know? I mean, I'll know today, but I'd imagine it'd take you longer—" 

"Yeah, that's what I think too, but Ron and Mr Weasley both think I'll get hired on the spot." Hermione shook her head. "I wish I could have that much confidence." 

"You _are_ Hermione Granger," Harry said, "and so there is no one better qualified for a research position." 

"Yes, but this isn't exactly entry level," she said. "It's a bit more advance than that because it's with the Department of Mythological Menaces. But it does help that Mr Weasley knows the departmental director, and rather well at that." 

"You'll be fine." Harry reached out to squeeze her hand in reassurance. "I know you will be." 

"Thanks." She smiled at him. "You will be too. But I suppose you'd best get going?" 

He turned to look at the clock. "Damn! I'm—" 

"Not late yet. Get going! I'll clean up in here." 

"Thanks," he said as he went running for the door. "I'll see you later then." 

"Bye!" Hermione waved as he ran out. "And good luck!" 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

"I told you so," Ron said yet again as he and Hermione waited for Harry in a café right outside the Magpies' Quidditch Pitch. 

"You're never going to get tired of saying that, are you?" Hermione asked. 

"Of course not. It's not too often that I get a chance to say that, and it's even rarer when you're not threatening to hex me if I keep on saying that," said Ron. 

"I'm only letting it pass because I'm so happy." Hermione bounced. She couldn't seem to stop bouncing ever since she was told that she was hired and to report in to work on Monday. "Do you think that Harry will be as lucky?" 

"Honestly," Ron began with a grimace, "I don't. I didn't know if I ought to have said something before but their owner's said to have lost a brother to the Death Eaters before Harry put and end to it all." 

"And you think that he'll hold that against Harry?" 

"Unfortunately, if what I've heard is true, he definitely will," Ron informed her. He sighed. "That's why I didn't bother trying out this year. The teams hiring Keepers either have Keepers who are arses who don't want any serious competition for their position, or have owners and managers who wouldn't hire me for one reason or the other. You know – either they were on our side and lost someone or knew someone who lost someone. Or worse, they weren't on our side." 

"Something tells me you wouldn't want to work for the latter type in any case," Hermione remarked. 

"You got that right." Ron finished the last of his sandwich. "But at least we've got good news for Harry to help cheer him up." 

"We do?" Hermione asked, confused as to what Ron was talking about. 

Ron rolled his eyes. "You don't really follow up on what's going on in Quidditch, do you?" 

"I come to watch you two play," Hermione said. 

"And that's about it. But to cut to the point, the Arrows have finally announced that their current Seeker is retiring because of injuries and so they're in the market for a new one." 

"What about their reserve?" Hermione asked. "I thought that was the whole point of having one." 

"No, no," Ron said. "Those are for if your Seeker gets injured during the course of the season. If it's the off-season, teams are much more likely to shop around to see if they can hire a more talented player. Often the reserve Seeker winds up trying out for the regular position as well but doesn't make it." He eyed the cheesecake in front of Hermione, and sighing, she pushed it towards him. "Thanks," he said, dipping his fork into it. 

"It always amazes me how much food you can eat," she remarked. 

"You're just jealous of my girlish figure," Ron replied sarcastically. 

"Girlish figure?" Hermione looked at Ron. "Ron, dear, is there something you haven't told us?" she asked sweetly. 

"Bah!" was his only reply as he quickly finished off the last of the cheesecake. "I can't even make a joke around you." 

"That was an opening too good to resist," Hermione said with a small smirk on her face. "Should we get going now? I'd imagine that they'd be just about done." 

"Oh, they're not. Only the first cuts would've been made but let's go in case Harry doesn't make it that far." The two of them began slowly meandering along the pavement towards the Quidditch Pitch. They hadn't walked too far when they caught sight of their other best friend. 

"Damn!" Ron muttered. "I hope he's not taking it too hard!" He quickened his pace to reach Harry faster, and Hermione had to jog to keep up. She could tell that he was taking it badly. It wasn't by the set of his shoulders or the look on his face, but rather to her eye, he seemed a bit . . . off . . . though he was doing his best not to show it. 

When one has known someone as long as she's known him, one could tell they were depressed without any physical hints at all. 

Ron took one look at their despondent friend once they had reached him. "Shall we go back to your flat?" he asked, wisely guessing that Harry didn't want to talk about it in public. 

Harry considered that. "Nothing to drink there," he noted. 

"All the better there, because that's the last thing you need," Hermione put in. 

"Hermione . . ." Ron started. 

"Leave it," Harry said. "Let's just go back, okay?" 

Ron acquiesced, and within the hour they were back at the flat that Harry and Hermione shared. Once inside, Hermione bustled them towards the kitchen, so they could all sit down. 

"Do either of you want anything to drink?" she asked. 

"No," said Harry. 

"Maybe some water for me," Ron said. "Something tells me I'm going to need it later." He looked silently across the table. "So, mate, have you heard the good news?" 

"There's good news?" Harry looked as if he could hardly believe his ears. "And here I was thinking that this day was cursed." 

"Of course there's good news!" Ron said emphatically. "The Arrows are in the market for a Seeker." 

"Great," Harry said. "I can get rejected by them as well. At least this time around, I can bloody well make sure that there's something to drink here."   
  
Hermione plunked down a glass of water in front of Ron and took a seat between the two men. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Harry. I'm sure you were the fastest there, right?" 

"Yeah," Harry replied forlornly. "But they let me go because they said they didn't think that I'd be a team player." He scowled fiercely. "Whatever that's supposed to mean." 

"What it means," explained Ron, "is that their owner still is holding on to his stupid grudge against you." 

"What grudge against me?" Harry asked. 

"Eh . . . don't worry about it, mate. It's no big deal really," Ron responded. 

"If it cost me a job, then obviously it's something I ought to worry about," Harry said, glaring at Ron. 

Hermione sighed. She knew that Ron was just trying to protect Harry as no one could be sure how Harry would react to the news that some people still blamed him for not putting an end to You-Know-Who sooner. However, she also knew that Harry hated things being kept secret from him for his own good. Given that, she thought it was best to tell him. "The owner of the Magpies lost a brother to the Death Eaters," she told him bluntly. 

"And this is my fault how?" Harry asked, his voice rising in volume. 

"It's not," Hermione replied quickly. 

"Not your fault at all," Ron added. 

"And tell me – how long do I have to live with all of that! Why would anyone think that I wanted to prolong that whole . . . that whole damn episode? I certainly didn't get through that without losing anyone . . . starting with my parents, I might add!" 

"I know, Harry, I know," Hermione said. "It's not your problem, it's his, and—" 

"Not my problem?" Harry was shouting by now. "It_ is_ my problem because it . . . how could it not be my problem? When people who don't even know me detest me because they've lost someone and . . ." 

"Not everyone's like that," Ron put in. "Some place the blame where it ought to be, on the Death Eaters and Fudge's poor management. But there are always some bleeding idiots who can't let go and need someone more personal to blame and—" 

"And so I become their fucking scapegoat. Lovely." Harry crossed his arms across his chest, fuming. 

Ron and Hermione exchanged a speaking glance. This was not good. 

"I wish I could tell you how to deal with that. With those sorts of people," Hermione began. "But I can't. Because I don't know what that's like." 

"We know that we've got it easier than you because we don't get blamed like you, Harry. But at the same time, we don't get the credit that you do for defeating the Dark Lord," Ron added. 

"Take it. It's doing me no good," Harry said stubbornly. 

Another glance was exchanged, and Hermione tried again to get through to him. 

"Fame is something that you certainly don't need," she said. "And . . . well, if you think about it, they must hurt, those people who blame you. And it's sad really, that they can't let go, that they can't find some sort of peace, that they keep needing people to hate. And I really wish that they didn't focus their hatred on you, but wishes . . ." 

"Don't really mean anything, do they?" Harry interrupted. 

"I was going to say that they can't change anything. I like to think that they do mean something. That they mean that I care for you and all those who send you such warm wishes care for you as well. And that maybe . . . maybe that's enough of a reason to let go and try again." 

"What makes you think that—" 

"The same thing won't happen next time?" Ron said. "Because the owner of the Arrows isn't like that. He's a friend of my dad's, just like Hermione's boss." 

"Hermione's boss?" Harry turned to look at her. "You got the job?" 

"Yeah," Hermione said. "I did. I start Monday." 

Suddenly, Harry felt guilty for not asking how Hermione's interview went earlier. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I should've asked about that earlier." 

"Don't worry about it. I don't mind." 

"You should," he persisted. 

"But I don't and you know how stubborn I can be about things," Hermione said with a smile. "Besides, don't you want to know more about that new position with the Arrows?" 

"There's not much else to tell, actually. Dad says that they'll be holding tryouts just for that position." 

"Oh that's good." Hermione clapped her hands together in excitement. "That way you won't have to be there the entire day." 

This time it was Ron and Harry exchanging speaking glances. 

"For a witch who purports to know everything . . ." Ron began. 

"She really has no idea how many people want to join a professional Quidditch team," Harry finished. 

"I never said I know everything," Hermione sniffed. 

"I'll let that one pass," said Ron. 

"Only because you have no evidence," Hermione said. 

"And let you know that Harry will be there the whole day because it'll take that long to whittle all the applicants down to one." 

Harry nodded in agreement. "If the position is wide open, then it'll probably take half a day just for them to finish with the first cut." 

"Which is why they're holding that tryout separately," Ron said. "It hasn't been scheduled yet but it'll probably soon. They want to finish the team roster as early as possible to get in as much practice with the full team in the off-season." 

"So basically, I have to wait . . . again," noted Harry. 

"Sorry mate, but there's nothing any of us can do about that." Ron scratched his head, thinking. "Although I can ask Dad to introduce you to their owner, Ben Thomson." 

"Your dad knows him too?" Hermione asked in surprise. 

"Amazing, isn't it? It's a mind-blowing coincidence that he knows both your potential employers. As for Thomson, at one time, he worked with Dad at the Ministry of Magic. Dad says he's a tremendously tolerant person, so he ought to like Harry well enough. So I don't see anything wrong with getting Dad to set up a meeting. It can't hurt." 

Harry looked dubious. "It can if he hates me," he replied. 

"He won't, he won't. Trust me," Ron said, spreading out his hands. 

"It worries me when he says that," Harry remarked. 

"Probably because you've heard that line one too many times from the twins," Hermione pointed out. 

"We shouldn't hold that against him, should we?" 

"No, we shouldn't but it's kind of hard not to, isn't it?" Hermione remarked. 

"Yes, it can be difficult," agreed Harry. 

"If you two are quite finished," Ron said, "I was about to ask you two if you'd like to go out to dinner to celebrate Hermione finally finding a job. My treat." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

They did go out to celebrate that night, which Hermione was soon glad of as she had little free time after she started her new position. She did enjoy her job, despite the long hours. Hermione was known, however, for occasionally grumbling about the fact that she always had to be there bright and early in the morning, no matter how late she had worked the previous night. 

The only real problem she had with her job was the wizard who got hired on the same time as she: Draco Malfoy. There wasn't much she could do about the situation, except wonder how he managed to land any respectable job with his family's reputation. Her best friends shared in her puzzlement. 

"He's what?" Harry had said when Hermione had complained to him and Ron. 

"He's working with me, and I tell you, he is a right pain in the arse. He acts as if I can't be trusted with the simplest of assignments." Hermione had said, rolling her eyes. 

"That git. I swear, those Malfoys are like cockroaches. They'd survive through anything!" Ron had sworn. 

Fortunately, Hermione only had to deal with working in the same room as him; evidently her boss knew better than to ask a Malfoy to work with a Muggle-born witch. She did her best to grin and bear it. She wasn't about to let that bastard chase her out of a job that she truly enjoyed. 

One thing that Hermione began to worry about was her housing situation. Though she did not relish the idea of living alone (or leaving Harry, though she would never admit that aloud), the flat was rather cramped for the both of them. After her first paycheck, she decided to approach the matter in a roundabout fashion. She asked Harry how much she should give him for rent. He had waved the matter off, laughingly noting that with the hours she had been keeping, all she really needed was a place to crash and it wasn't worth it for her to get her own place. Hermione had agreed and went on to admit that she didn't have the time to search for an appropriate place anyway. 

So the days went on without change, and Hermione was satisfied with her situation. It wasn't perfect and she sometimes wished she could get out of the stasis she seemed to be in with regards to Harry, but she didn't know how. She considered very briefly, asking Ron for his advice before abandoning that idea. She thought about owling Ginny as well, but she suspected that Ginny would guess whom she was writing about and that would not do at all. While Hermione trusted Ginny not to air any suspicions, she still lived in the Weasley household, which was not a very safe place for such secrets, especially with Mrs Weasley about. 

Sooner than she thought, the day came for Harry to go and attempt to join the Arrows as their new Seeker. He had met with their owner previously, as arranged by Mr Weasley, but wouldn't comment on how that meeting went. When Hermione had asked Ron, he had smirked and remarked that all Harry had to do was stay on his broom to get through the first round. She proceeded to ask Ron if he could wait for Harry after the tryouts with her, but Ron grimaced and said he couldn't get out with helping with inventory at the twins' joke shop that night. 

Hermione had expected to get off at a decent time that evening and told Harry that she'd be waiting for him by right outside the stands. However, things did not work out how she had planned them. 

_Damn, damn, and damn again_, she thought as she rushed back home. _Why tonight of all nights for an audit of our methods? And I haven't even been there that long. Oh well, at least it went well and hopefully, it went well for Harry as well . . . damn. Those boys are too obsessed with that game. Try to tell them that Quidditch _isn't_ life and they'll look at you as if you've gone nutters. _ Reaching the Apparition point, she surreptitiously glanced around to make sure that there were no Muggles about. Better safe than sorry, after all. Seeing that she was in the clear, she drew out her wand and transported herself to an Apparition point a short distance away from the flat. 

Hermione didn't why she was bothering to run considering how she was in the first place. It was true that she was worried about Harry's state of mind, given how defeated he was after the last two times. But still, when it was past midnight and you were supposed to meet a little after six, it seemed rather silly to be worrying about being a few minutes more late. Once at the stairs, she began to go up them, fervently wishing that she was as tall as the boys and thus able to take them two at a time. 

Reaching the front door of the flat, Hermione inserted her key, only to find that the door had been left open. _That's odd_, she thought to herself. _That can mean something very good or something very bad. _She entered the flat, unable to repress her feeling of trepidation. Looking around, she saw it was a bit messier than usual but no signs of any despondent drinking binges or furious rampages at being rejected again. Crossing her fingers, she set out to look for Harry. 

Hermione peeked into the kitchen to find it empty. That's not surprising, she thought. He's probably already in bed, just like any other day. She was about to turn to try Harry's bedroom, when a scroll lying out on the table caught her eye. Wondering what it was, she picked it up and looked over it. It didn't take her long to figure out that it was a contract for Harry to play as the Seeker for the Appleby Arrows. 

_He did it!_ she thought excitedly. _Oh, why did I ever doubt him! And he must've left this out on the table so I can see it, which means . . . I really shouldn't disturb his sleep. He probably has practice early tomorrow morning. _She sighed. _Not that I don't have to get up early as well. _She walked slowly towards the bathroom when suddenly a loud thump and a high-pitched squeal interrupted her. 

One would have to be extraordinarily naïve not to know what that meant. And Hermione wasn't that stupid. 

Her heart broke. 

That wasn't quite true. Her heart didn't break so much as it shattered, and she felt . . . she felt . . . she didn't know how to describe what she felt. Probably the only ones who could understand were those who had their hearts broken before, though Hermione thought it was different for everyone. She wanted to cry, to sob at her loss, but was too damn proud to let go. She knew she had to do something, because staying here tonight . . . she didn't even want to think about it. 

Hardly knowing what she was doing, she took out her wand and hurriedly cast a spell to shrink down her belongings, which she threw into a knapsack. She had to leave. What she would do afterwards was anyone's guess, but she couldn't stay here anymore. 

It was brilliantly clear that she was not needed here at all.   
  


**Author's note:** Sorry for the long wait. I should be updating again either next Friday or the Friday afterwards, I'm not which. Anyway, thanks to everyone who left a review for the last chapter!   



	8. Chapter Eight : Daybreak

**Charming**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Eight : Daybreak**

Harry awoke the next morning, a bit later and a bit groggier than usual. He smiled when he remembered all that had happened yesterday. 

It had been a good day. And an absolutely _excellent_ night. 

Then he remembered his roommate. 

Damn, he swore silently to himself. There was no way he could get Serena out if Hermione was outside. He quickly slipped out of his bed, pulled on a pair of pajamas, and headed out to the living room. 

When he got there, however, he discovered it was empty. 

_Hmm. Guess Hermione must have figured it out for herself and went somewhere else for the night. At least I hope so. I'd hate to think she spent the entire night working. _ Harry shook his head at the thought of her schedule lately. Those late nights couldn't be good for her. Sighing, he returned to his room, hoping that she was all right. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Still fuming, Hermione stomped through the door and to her desk, with a cup of coffee and a copy of the_ Daily Prophet_ in hand. _ Why the hell couldn't this have happened on a weekend when I wouldn't have to go to work the next day? she wondered. Oh that's right. Murphy's Law. I guess I should be grateful that it's Wednesday and not Monday. _ In one motion, she violently pulled out her chair and sat down. 

"So what's got your knickers in a twist this morning, Granger?" a lazy drawl sounded out from behind her. 

"Sod off, Malfoy. I'm in no mood to deal with you today," she snarled back at him. 

"You know the way you say my name, it gives me the impression that you think I'm a bastard," Malfoy stated. "I assure you that I am not." 

"I am ever so sorry about that," Hermione replied with mock-sweetness. "I didn't mean to give that impression at all as I think of you as the scum of the earth!" Resolving to ignore her recalcitrant co-worker, she opened up the _Prophet _to the rentals page. 

"Looking for a new flat, I see," Malfoy said, reading over her shoulder. "What happened? Potter kicked you out onto the streets?" 

"Fuck you." 

"Not at work, dear," he replied smugly. 

Though Hermione couldn't see him (nor did she want to), she knew he was smirking right now. Without looking, she quickly rolled up a piece of paper and lobbed it in the general direction of his voice, figuring that was where he would be. Being used to dealing with Bludgers, Malfoy easily dodged her shot. 

"Touchy subject, I see," he said. 

"If you must know, I need to move because Harry's a damn morning person," Hermione gritted out through her teeth. _There is no way in hell I'm going to tell that arsehole the truth_, she thought to herself. 

"Ouch. What could be worse?" 

"He's a _perky_ morning person." 

"My condolences. And I do mean that with complete sincerity," Malfoy said. "So are you going to look tonight?" he inquired. 

"If I can get off at a decent time, then yes," she replied. 

"Fine then. I'll go with you," he told her. 

"You'll what?" Not believing what she had heard, she swiveled her chair around to look at Malfoy. 

"Are you going deaf, Granger? I said I'd help you look." 

"Why in the world would you expect me to _want _your help?" she asked sharply. 

He rolled his eyes at her. "Because I'm a Malfoy. I know where everything is better than you, and what's more, I can get better offers than you could negotiating on your own." 

"Somehow I doubt that," Hermione said. "And I'm perfectly fine going by myself, thank you very much." 

"You don't really have much choice in the matter. It'd be kind of silly, don't you think, to have me trailing after you," he replied. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're up to something, aren't you?" 

Malfoy sighed dramatically. "Fine. I do admit I have an ulterior motive." 

"Which is?" Hermione asked, tapping her foot impatiently. 

"If you had check your mail box this morning, you'd see that we're assigned to research the Cyclops together." 

"Lovely. Just what I wanted. More time I have to spend with you." Hermione scowled at the thought. 

"And if we do a good job and don't have that many complaints filed against us for incessant fighting, we'll be put on permanent assignment to the Grecian sector." 

Hermione paused. Getting a permanent assignment would be lovely, as it would be a step up. It would also mean regular assignments for her, which would translate into less work as she wouldn't be dealing with everyone else's overflow anymore. However, being permanently assigned with Malfoy might be the opposite. 

"What's more such assignment would include quarterly research trips to Greece," Malfoy continued. 

"Research trips?" Hermione asked. 

"The meaning should be obvious." He cocked one elegant eyebrow at her. "So what do you say, Granger? Care to practice being civil to one another tonight?" 

She slowly nodded yes. "You're not really giving me a choice, anyway, are you?" she responded. After hearing that, the permanent assignment would be good for her. It would be very good for her to get away from London for a bit right after . . . last night. If it meant being civil to Malfoy – well, she could do that so long as he behaved himself. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Immediately after work, Ron Weasley headed back to his friends' flat. He had already heard the good news and had owled Harry with his congratulations, but he rather felt that it'd be better to drag them out to celebrate tonight. _And maybe give them a nudge in the right direction as well_, he thought gleefully while rubbing his hands together. Hermione did need all the help she could get as she was taking far too long to snag Harry for herself. Especially when it was blazingly clear that Harry was interested in Hermione too. _And especially when Harry's likely to do something stupid to get Hermione off his mind as well_, Ron added to himself. 

Once at the flat, he paused to knock on the door only to wind up barely missing hitting Harry's face. 

"Hey! Watch it!" Harry said. 

"Sorry about that," Ron apologized. "And congratulations! I told you you could do it!" He then peered around Harry. "Is Hermione back yet? I thought I'd take you both out to dinner to celebrate. Goodness knows that girl works too much." 

"Er . . . that was why I was leaving. To go check up on Hermione," Harry said. 

"Still at work then." Ron shook his head. "You know, we ought to start planning how to get her to relax more." 

"Actually, I don't know if she's at work," Harry told him. "She didn't come home last night, or rather, she didn't stay, and I think she might have gone back to her parents'—" 

"Okay, wait a minute here," Ron said, holding up his hands. He turned sidewise to get in past Harry. Harry closed the door and followed Ron as he walked into the living room and sat on the couch. "You're not making any sense at all," Ron continued. "Why would Hermione be at her parents' house instead of here? Did you two have a fight or something?" 

"No, we're not fighting," Harry hastily put in. "But she wasn't there last night and I figured she was working late and so I went out celebrating by myself . . . and I met this witch and one thing led to another . . ." 

"What?" Ron said. He could feel the heat rise in his face as he thought how that must have affected Hermione. "You did what?" 

"That's why I need to find Hermione to tell her that she can come back now. That I didn't mean to put her out for the night, and that I definitely didn't mean for her to pack up and leave because she took all her stuff with her. Even Crookshanks," Harry added. 

"You bloody well better apologize!" Ron jumped up and stalked towards Harry. "How could you have done such a thing to Hermione! This is the lowest, the most despicable, the absolute worst thing you've ever done!" 

"Stop right there," Harry said angrily. "I freely admit that it was rude of me to do so. But it wasn't as if Hermione didn't put me into this situation. She barges in here one night and announces she's moving in – and what am I going to do, kick her out? My best friend? Not bloody likely. Despite the fact it's kind of impossible to have go out and meet witches when your best friend in living with you." 

"So you're blaming Hermione for this mess?" Ron's tone was full of disbelief. 

"No, I'm not," said Harry. "Like I said before, I'm sorry that she was embarrassed and she had no place for the night . . . but what else was I supposed to do?" He grimaced. "And this is getting me nowhere. I'll find Hermione, apologize, and then let her shake some sense into you." 

Ron mentally snorted at the idea of Hermione taking Harry's side in this argument. A_lthough I doubt she'd be in a mood to talk to him_, he thought to himself. Hearing the door open, he turned his attention back to Harry. "And where are you going this time?" he asked. 

"To the Grangers' of course," Harry replied. 

_Damn. Put off killing Harry till later. Must stop him from attempting suicide._ "You can't go there," he told Harry. 

"Give me one good reason why not," Harry said. 

"Her father." 

Harry paled at those two words. 

"It doesn't matter what Hermione thinks or not," Ron continued. "I can assure you that her dad won't look kindly on you after Hermione wound up spending the night at her parents', for whatever reason." He grimaced. "And believe you me, you do not want to see her father when he's angry." 

"Oh, I can believe that," Harry said, thinking of his previous interrogation. "He's a bit overly protective, isn't he?" 

_Oh, I wouldn't say that considering what you've done_, Ron thought. "I can understand how he feels, having a younger sister myself," he said aloud. 

"I know," Harry said. "But I do have to see Hermione—" 

"It's best if I go myself," Ron began. He stopped to consider what he had said. "Actually, no, it's not, as her dad probably won't be kindly disposed to any of her male friends right now. Remember how he was after me and Hermione broke it off?" 

Harry shuddered. "I was trying to forget that," he said. 

"I think all of us are," said Ron. "It might be best just to owl Hermione . . . though Pig's not here and . . ." 

"But Hedwig is," said Harry. "I'll send her a letter right now." 

Ron sat down as his friend went off in search of quill and parchment. _Killing Harry won't make Hermione feel any better_, he thought to himself. _ Though the idea's tempting because he's being such a dunce right now._ He sighed. _And I do hope Hermione's all right._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

If she had known of them, Hermione would have appreciated Ron's well wishes. Searching for a flat was going much, much worse than she thought it would. 

Malfoy was being a complete prick. 

Not to her directly, of course. If it had been that, Hermione would have hexed him and sent him on his way. But he was bloody impossible when it came to them actually looking at a flat. He could find fault in the smallest of things. Though privately Hermione had to admit that it was impressive how he could get a landlord to lower the price for a place just by looking at him. The bad thing was they hadn't even been through her entire list of flats to look at. After the third one they had tried, Malfoy took one look at her list, had tossed up his hands in despair, and had dragged her to a café so they could eat while he tried to find something in a "halfway decent neighborhood," to use his words. 

It was all Hermione could do not to bury her face in her hands and cry. Last night, her heart was broken. Tonight, it seemed that Malfoy was intent on breaking her budget. At least she knew better than to ask, hypothetically, if things could get worse. Of course they could and if one even wondered about that, Murphy's Law would be happy to show one how. 

_I hope I've not jinxed myself just thinking about that_, Hermione thought. _And I was stupid enough to think that things would calm down after we finished school._

"Don't look so glum, Granger," Malfoy said, looking up from perusing the _Prophet_. "I won't hold it against you that you apparently have no idea what the good neighborhoods are." 

Hermione repressed a sigh. Choking Malfoy wouldn't be civil, and for some reason that was getting harder to remember, she had promised she would be civil tonight. "This might come as a surprise for you, but not all of us have endless amounts of money at our disposal." 

"I am perfectly aware of that," he told her. "That's why I'm not looking at anything with more than two bedrooms." 

"Two bedrooms?" she gasped. "Malfoy, I only need a studio." 

"That's not thinking ahead, Granger. What if you want to invite a group of friends over to entertain?" 

"I won't." Hermione tilted her chin up stubbornly. 

"You never know," Malfoy returned. "Unless you're finally going to break down and profess your admiration of the art that is Divination." 

Hermione snorted in response. "You'd be waiting a bloody long time for that to happen." 

"If it makes you feel better, we can look at all the one-bedroom flats first. If nothing is suitable there, we'll go on to the two-bedroom flats," said Malfoy. He folded up the newspaper and placed it on the chair beside him. "And yes, I remember your comment about budgets. I do think I'll be able to convince at least one landlord that to come down on prices." 

"And here I thought that bargaining would be below you," Hermione noted. 

"Contrary to popular belief, paying full price for things is not the way to save money," he remarked. "Though I am sure that some of your friends have—" 

"Say one bad thing about Ron, and I will hex you," Hermione threatened. 

"Whatever happened to civility?" asked Malfoy. 

"You think that insulting my friends is being civil?" 

"I was merely stating a fact." 

Hermione took a deep breath, intent on telling Malfoy that he didn't know a damn thing about her friends when a snowy white owl swooped down in front of them. "Hedwig!" she exclaimed. 

Malfoy looked on as Hedwig patiently held out her leg so Hermione could reach the message. "How do you plan on moving out when Potter can't bear to be without you for one night?" he asked languidly. 

_If only that were true_, Hermione thought to herself. _But I must keep up appearances, at least._ "That," she said haughtily, "is the least of my concerns." She unfolded the letter and scanned its contents. _So Harry's sorry about last night, didn't mean to embarrass me (as if that's all), and wants me to know that it's safe to come back? _She mentally sighed. _Right now, I don't think I'll ever want to go back there! At least, not until I'm really fine with it all. If I eer am._

"So running off to see him?" her dinner companion asked. 

"No, I'm only sending him a reply. I can see him and Ron during the weekend. I'm busy at the moment," Hermione said. _Never thought I'd see the day when I'd forsake the chance to see Harry so that I could spend more time with Malfoy_, she reflected. _Given the circumstances though . . . it's not surprising. Though I do have to see him again soon. Bad enough that . . . that I . . . that my heart's been shattered. I do not want him to know that I fancy him_. She turned the letter over on to the other side and scribbled a note back to Harry, telling him that she was busy and that perhaps they could get together some time this weekend for lunch. Rolling the parchment back up, she fastened it back to Hedwig's leg and thanked her for waiting. 

Switching her attention back to Malfoy, she asked, "So are you ready to go? I don't expect that—" 

"I know it's getting late, and we can get going once we finish arguing over who is going to pay the bill," he said. 

"What makes you think we're going to argue over that?" 

"The fact that you'll want to split it despite my mother raising me better than that," he said. "If you're in a hurry, I suggest that you capitulate now." 

This time Hermione did not resist the urge to bury her head in her hands. It was going to be a long evening. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Harry paced the floor of his living room as he waited for Hermione's response. It was taking far too long for Hermione to answer for his comfort. He hoped that she wasn't too upset at him. 

_Not that she's completely . . . okay, to be fair, she did offer to pay rent and I suppose I could have suggested then that she moved out. But she never was honest about why she suddenly came here, and I didn't want to throw her out. Not when she's always been there for me. _ He sighed. _Though, in one way, she should be grateful. I was beginning to think that I fancied her. Something tells me that she wouldn't appreciate me jumping her. _ Harry shook his head frantically to get that thought out of his mind. _No, no, it was good for me to get out and spend time with other people again. I just should have been more discreet. Especially as Ron is taking it very hard. I'd expect Hermione to be upset – I was rude and inconsiderate – but Ron? He's usually more levelheaded than that. And he usually agrees with my point of view instead of Hermione's. Hmm . . . maybe there is something between the two of them. In that case, I must stop thinking of Hermione as . . . anything more. Bad enough to risk one friendship, even worse to risk two._

"Should we put a new carpet on your wish list for your birthday?" Ron asked from his vantage point. 

"Huh . . . what?" was Harry's inelegant response. He had been so lost in thought that he had forgotten that Ron was still with him. 

"At the rate you've been walking back and forth, you'll need one before Hedwig ever gets back," Ron said pointedly. 

"It usually doesn't take this long," Harry responded. 

Ron shrugged. "Maybe Hedwig is having a harder time finding her. Maybe she isn't at her parents' house or at work.." 

"Where would she be then?" 

"Who knows?" Ron replied. "At least you can trust Hedwig. With Pig, I always have to worry about him deciding to go off on his own for some scatterbrained reason or another." 

"True, true," Harry replied. He was about to go on when a scratch at his window informed him that Hedwig was back. "Finally!" he exclaimed. "Not that I blame you or think you're slow, Hedwig," he hastily amended when she shot him a nasty glance. "I'm worried about Hermione, that's all." 

From across the room, Ron muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Too bad you weren't worried about it last night." Not wanting another near fight with Ron, Harry ignored that comment and read Hermione's letter. 

Dear Harry (and Ron if he's there), 

Sorry for making you worry. I'm actually out looking for a new flat for myself right now. It's sort of obvious that your place isn't big enough for the two of us and it was getting rather cramped there. I know you've not said anything but I'm sure you'll be happier once I'm out of your hair. I have to run. If possible, I'd like to find some place tonight. Would you and Ron like to meet for lunch on the weekend? My treat. 

Love from Hermione 

Harry stared mutely at the letter. He had never intended for her to feel unwelcome or that he wanted her out of there. He wished that she had spoken to him before leaping to conclusions, but that was vintage Hermione. 

"So what does the letter say?" Ron asked. 

"She says that she's fine and that she's out looking for a flat at the moment," answered Harry, who still couldn't believe that she had decided to move so suddenly. 

"That was to be expected," Ron noted. 

"She offered to meet us for lunch some time this weekend," Harry continued. 

"Does she need help moving?" Ron asked. "Why don't you write back to her letting her know that we're willing to help?" 

"That's a good idea," Harry said. "I'll do that as soon as I find another piece of parchment." _And while I'm at it, I have to ask if I can talk to her before then. I really don't want her thinking that I don't want her here, that I think she's a nuisance, or any nonsense like that._   
  


**Author's note:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. ^_^ I'll be updating again next Friday, as chapter nine is finished and just needs to be edited.   



	9. Chapter Nine : Surreal

**Charming**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Nine : Surreal**

It was absolutely amazing. She had no idea how Malfoy did it, but she could appreciate the result. The bastard had managed to secure her a two-bedroom flat that would only require the slightest amount of penny-pinching. It had taken the better part of three days – or rather nights – but it had been worth it. Even though she had had to spend all that extra time being civil to Malfoy. It hadn't actually been all that bad. Indeed, one of the fringe benefits was that she didn't have to deal with Harry during that time. 

Hermione still didn't know what to do about that. If she were to be completely truthful, she didn't even know how she _felt_ about that. A good part of her felt sad and desperately lonely. It was disheartening, to say the least, for the man you love to ignore you in favor of a witch he had just met. 

But there was another part of her that was angry, and it seemed to grow day by day. Harry never noticed her, despite how long they had known each other and everything they had been through. He had never shown the slightest bit of interest in her. She was simply the witch that was always by his side but never with him – as if she weren't good enough for him. And if that weren't bad enough, he just had to go and rub that in her face, as if taunting her, as if shouting to the world that he'd never fancy Hermione Granger. The calmer, more rational part of her reflected that she had never made her interest clear and that she had no claim on her best friend – but at times, Hermione didn't really want to be calm and rational. No she supposed she had no claim on him, but he damn well could have appeared to have noticed her for once. The best she ever got out of him was an admission that she wasn't ugly. 

And even that calm, rational side of her had to admit that being angry was good. It was better to be angry than to spend endless nights crying herself to sleep. Being angry allowed her to read those letters that he sent her and scoff over them, rather than feeling her heart break all over again. Being angry almost made her feel ready to deal with him. 

Unfortunately for him, she only felt almost ready to deal with seeing him again. Hermione had tried to work her way around it, but in the end, she hadn't been able to refuse his offer to help her move. She had initially planned to write back that she appreciated the offer but now wasn't a good time for either Harry or Ron to be around her dad. Then, her brilliant mother had scheduled a Saturday full of appointments for her father, leaving her with no choice but to accept their offer of help. Hermione had already written back to him to let him know that she could use his help tomorrow. She had apologized in her note for taking so long to reply, saying that she had been busy looking for a new place since then. He would probably understand but she didn't care if he didn't. After all, it would be easier to deal an angry Harry with than a sad Harry looking at her contritely. Yet, as she tossed and turned, trying to get to some rest before she had to get up, she wondered if things would go as easily as she hoped. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Harry had never felt so alone in his life. 

It was incredible – it was simply astounding how empty his flat felt now that Hermione was gone. He had never thought of his flat as being especially grand and spacious. There was more than enough room for bachelor, especially one who had spent most of his formative years confined to a cupboard under the stairs. Once Hermione had moved in, he had begun to think of it as cramped. Comfortable, yes, as it was comfortable to have Hermione around, but definitely cramped. His flat had not been meant for two people . . . or to be more precise, not meant for two people who weren't at least sleeping together. 

Yet now that she was gone . . . his place seemed far too empty and hollow. It was almost too quiet for him to bear, though he knew that Hermione never made that much noise. Those three days that he spent without her were some of the loneliest days of his life . . . made lonelier still by him not knowing when he'd next see her. 

He had almost come to regret sleeping with that witch. 

In one way, he did wish he could take it back. He had never meant for Hermione to feel unwelcome – that couldn't be farther from the truth – or for her to get the impression that he wanted her to move out. At the time, he had thought things were fine. It wasn't as if he and Serena had shagged on the couch where Hermione slept after all. He had made sure they had been in his room, despite the fact that he practically had to drag the witch away from exploring the place. He didn't think she would take it badly, for she had always been an eminently sensible witch, who ought to know that sometimes wizards got certain urges. Yet perhaps he was wrong, given her reaction and Ron's. 

Harry shook his head at the thought of Ron. He would have never imagined that Ron would get so upset with him simply for having another witch over. It didn't make too much sense, now that he thought about it, if Ron fancied Hermione. Shouldn't Ron have been happy to see that Harry was interested in someone else? Shouldn't have Ron have leapt at the chance to comfort Hermione and help her find a new place to live? Harry would have thought that Ron might suggest to Hermione that they move in together and leave Harry all alone. But that didn't happen. Instead, Ron had seemed about ready to kill him, if Harry had accurately read him that evening. He had quickly – for a Weasley – recovered from his rage, which had seemed brotherly in nature, now that Harry thought about it. 

It made absolutely no sense. If that was true, then Ron wouldn't have been any obstacle to him maybe asking Hermione for a date . . . but Hermione would have been. Harry knew she didn't think of him as anything more than a friend . . . but if it came to losing Hermione by making her feel as if she weren't welcome as opposed to driving her away by confessing his feelings . . . 

Harry didn't know which option he would have chosen if that were the case. But that wasn't the hand he had been dealt. She wasn't interested, she felt like he wanted her out, and now she had her own flat to go home to, instead of theirs. He had secretly hoped that she wouldn't be able to find any decent place, giving him a chance to convince her to come back. Yet, once again, things didn't go his way, and he was left with helping her to move farther away from him. 

_From fantastic to frustrating_¸ he thought to himself. _If I keep having too many more weeks like this, I'll have a mop of white hair before I'm thirty. _ Sighing, he headed off to bed. He needed his rest tomorrow if he wanted to be of any use to the witch he suspected he was falling in love with. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Hermione awoke to the smell of bacon, eggs, and . . . she sniffed the air experimentally once more, confirming that she had smelled pancakes as well. She smiled. Pancakes had always been a favorite treat of hers as a child, as her parents didn't allow her to eat them too often, seeing as they were dentists. Yawning, she rose from her bed and headed towards the bathroom, where she thoroughly brushed her teeth and tied back her hair. Going back to her bedroom to change, she pulled on a pair of well-worn jeans along with a violet jumper. Only then did she give into her inner child and bounce gleefully down the stairs where breakfast awaited her. 

"Good morning, Mum! Good morning, Dad!" she cheerfully called out to her parents, who had finished their breakfast and were headed out the door. 

"Good morning, Hermione," her mum replied. "Your dad made a treat for you for breakfast today, so you can keep up your energy." 

"I know," she said with a big grin on her face. "I could smell them upstairs." 

"Somehow I'm not surprised." Hermione's mother smiled at her only daughter. "I've made enough for your friends as well, since they're coming here to help you later." 

"I'd have been willing to help too," her dad put in. "But somehow my schedule for today happened to be full. What an incredible coincidence." 

"I know, dear." Her mum lightly kissed her dad on his cheek. "How unfortunate." 

"Breakfast is more than enough help, Dad. Thanks!" Hermione said. 

The doorbell rang from behind them. "I'll get it," her dad said with an evil smirk on his face. Before Hermione could protest, he was opening the door and preparing to greet his victim. 

"Hello . . ." Robert Granger blinked at the young man before him. "I don't believe I've met you before. Are you lost, young man?" 

Hermione peered around her father to see Malfoy, all decked out in black and looking surprisingly good. "He's not lost, Dad. He's a co-worker of mine," Hermione said by way of introduction. 

"Is that so?" Mr. Granger said slowly. "It's nice to meet you, Mr . . ." 

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," Malfoy said with a perfectly straight face. 

Hermione's mum giggled. "Watch a tad too many James Bond movies when you were younger?" she asked. Malfoy simply looked at her blankly. 

"He's not Muggle-born, Mum, so he wouldn't know what you're talking about." Hermione said quickly. "But he really knows the Wizarding World, and he's been very helpful these last few nights with me looking for a—" 

"Last few nights?" Mr. Granger's eyebrows shot up. "You've been spending the last few nights with my daughter?" 

Malfoy shrugged. "A bit more than the last few considering that we've had to work late recently." 

"And I'm sure all you two did was work," Mr. Granger noted sarcastically. 

"Of course," Malfoy responded frivolously. "Being involved with someone you work with isn't a good idea." 

Malfoy realized he had committed a _faux pas _of some sort by the silence emanating from all three Grangers. Under her breath, Hermione whispered to him, "My parents work in the same dental office." 

"Though some couples, such as yourselves, are remarkably able to pull that off," he drawled as if he had known of that fact before he had started to speak. 

Hermione didn't need to look at her dad to know that he was getting ready to explode, and she didn't want to think what the outcome would be from a contest of wills between him and Malfoy. She shot a quick, pleading look at her mum, who thankfully got the hint. 

"Robert, love, it's time to go," her mum said, pulling her dad away from the door. "Otherwise, we'll be late for the first couple of appointments." 

"Bye Mum! Bye Dad! Have a nice day!" Hermione said, before quickly closing the door before her dad could escape from her mother's clutches. With her parents out of the way, she turned towards her unexpected visitor. "What are you doing here anyway, Malfoy?" she asked bluntly. 

"Don't tell me you plan on moving yourself, Granger," he replied smoothly. 

"No . . . but . . ." 

"I thought so. That's why I'm here. To help," he finished. 

"It's not that I don't appreciate the offer, Malfoy, but do you think you could leave?" Hermione asked. 

Malfoy looked down his nose at her. _Damn him for being tall enough to be able to do that_, she cursed silently. _Or rather damn my lack of height as virtually everyone I know can do that to me!_

"I thought we had agreed to try and be civil to one another," he reminded her. 

"We did," she agreed. 

"And your idea of civil is to not greet me, to not properly introduce me to your parents, and to not invite me in but instead do your best to get rid of me?" He gazed disapprovingly at her. "I despair at the manners that you were taught." 

She flushed. "I'm not trying to be rude," she began. 

"I'd hate to see you try then," he interrupted. 

Hermione ignored that comment. "But Harry and Ron are going to both be here, and you had never got along with them." 

"I'd put it the other way around." 

"Does it matter?" she asked. 

"Of course," he answered. 

She sighed. First her dad and now Malfoy. It was going to be one of those days, where every single male she had to deal with was difficult. _Maybe I should just get rid of them all and move by myself?_ she wondered. _No . . . it's too late. I already told them I'd like their help. If I suddenly changed my mind, they'd want to know why, and I'd get a headache that way._

"Putting that aside for right now, you three don't make pleasant company when you're all together. It doesn't matter to me who starts what . . . and I think it's rather childish to argue who does start it. In any case, I apologize for any . . . incivility on my part. I don't mean to be rude, really I don't, not when you helped me find this flat . . . but . . ." Hermione paused, trying to think of how best to phrase the next thing she was going to say. "But . . . unless you want me to come in on Monday with the mother of all headaches and as grumpy as hell . .. please leave." 

"Fine then," he agreed. "But only because you're a complete shrew when you've a migraine." 

"Thank you," she said dryly. 

"You're welcome," he replied. "Just remember, you owe me one." 

"I know, I know, I owed you anyway for all your help." She looked down at her feet, suddenly shy. "Truth be told, I didn't think our agreement would last this long. I thought for sure you'd say something rude before now." 

"Thank you for that vote of confidence, Granger," Malfoy said wryly. "Consider my previous good behavior as proof of intentions to hold up that bargain. You play nice with me, and I'll return the favor." 

"I will, I will," Hermione promised. "It's only this once and only because of—" 

"I know," Malfoy said with an unexpected grimace. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be leaving so I can return to my beauty sleep." With those words, he disappeared, having apparently Apparated away. 

"Someone sure knows how to make an exit," Hermione mumbled to herself as she headed back down the hallway. "Though he should know better than to Apparate in a Muggle household . . . but I suppose Malfoys aren't used to being held to the letter of the law." She made her way to the kitchen, where she poured herself a tall glass of milk before digging into the breakfast her mum had made. When she was about a quarter of the way through her plate, the doorbell rang once again. 

"One second!" she called out as she leapt up and jogged towards the front door. Opening it, she saw Ron and Harry standing outside. "Good morning, you two," she greeted them cheerfully, determined not to break into tears at the sight of Harry. "Would you like some—" 

"Breakfast!" Ron exclaimed as he caught whiff of the food. "Thanks for asking, I'd be glad to have some." Following his nose, he made a beeline towards the kitchen. 

"Typical Ron," Hermione said as he made his way past her. 

"Yeah," Harry agreed softly. He paused, as if choosing his words wisely. Hermione had no wish to hear what she thought he was going to say, so she quickly hurried him indoors, hoping to interrupt his train of thought. 

"Would you like some breakfast, too?" she asked amiably. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. I'd like to get something before the bottomless pit that is our friend consumes it all." 

"Me too," said Harry. "You know, Hermione, I didn't mean to make you feel unwelcome or that I wanted you to move out or that you were a bother," he blurted out. 

_I really do not want to discuss this right now_, Hermione thought. _That was the worst day . . . no, night of my life, and he has to bring it up. _She repressed a grimace. _Given what he had been doing, or rather whom, I'd not be surprised if it was one of his happiest days. I'd wonder if that'd be the source of his next Patronus?_

"Put your mind at rest, Harry," she told him. "I know perfectly well that you don't hate me and—" 

"Hate you? I couldn't imagine hating you!" he interjected. 

"You came pretty close in first year, if I remember correctly," she corrected him with a fake smile. "But I was going to say that I was considering moving out before then . . . my plans were just cemented when I realized how much of a dent in your . . . social life I must have been making." 

"You weren't doing anything of the sort, Hermione," Harry said. "I'm sorry, it was horribly rude of me, but I had—" 

"You don't need to explain yourself to me," she said. _And I really don't want to hear how she was so beautiful that you couldn't resist temptation, or worse, how it was love at first sight and that you can't wait to introduce us formally._ She shuddered. "Now let's get to the kitchen before we wind up having to go out for breakfast." Whirling around, she strode towards the kitchen, not stopping to see whether Harry was following her. She didn't care either way so long as that she put an end to that painful conversation. 

Upon reaching the kitchen, she saw Ron sitting at the dining table, tucking into a very generous serving of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. He waved at them with one hand, using the other hand to continue shoveling food into his mouth. 

"Your table manners are atrocious," Hermione scolded. "You could have at least waited for us to get here before eating everything in sight." 

"You didn't," Ron retorted, pointing at Hermione's plate. 

"I only began to eat before you arrived because you never did tell me when you planned to come," Hermione said, her chin set stubbornly. "Knowing your penchant for sleeping in, that may have very well been sometime this afternoon." 

"If you life, I can leave after breakfast and come back. Though that depends on what you're cooking for lunch," Ron replied. 

"You are incorrigible," she told him fondly. 

"That sounds like I have some sort of contagious disease," Ron noted. 

"I certainly hope not," Hermione said. She could feel Harry's eyes locked on to her back. _If I keep ignoring him, he'll know something is wrong, she thought. Oh well. I ought to offer him something to eat in any case. _ "Help yourself, Harry," she said, turning to smile at him. "You must be starving." 

"Thanks," he said as he sat down. Hermione handed him a plate, which he promptly took and began filling up. 

"So what do we have to move?" Ron asked. 

"Well, my bed and my clothing for starters," she replied. "Afterwards, I'd like to go up into the attic and retrieve some old furniture from there. Mum and Dad said it was fine for me to take it all if I wanted to, as that was the reason they had saved it anyway." 

"That's great!" Ron exclaimed. "That makes it easier for you, doesn't it?" 

"It certainly does," Hermione concurred. "Especially as I'll need a lot of furniture or else it'll seem very empty." 

"How big is your new flat?" Ron asked. 

"It has two bedrooms," she told them. "I know, it's a larger flat than I need, but as Malfoy got a great price on it—" Hermione clasped her hands to her mouth. She had done it now. There was no way Ron would let that statement pass without comment. 

"Malfoy!" Ron put down his fork and stared at Hermione. "You've been associating with Malfoy?" 

"You knew that, Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "He was hired on around the same time as I." 

"I know! And you do remember me telling you that I'd hex him if he tried anything funny, right?" Ron said a bit too eagerly. "So if you need to take me up on that offer . . . " 

"That's very sweet of you, Ron, but given the disparity between your grades and his, it'd probably be better if I handle his obnoxiousness by myself," she said. 

"Hermione! How could you say that?" 

"Because it's true," she replied calmly. "And he has been behaving himself, anyway, as the Powers That Be at our department want us to get along . . . or else." 

"Erm . . . a two-bedroom flat, Hermione?" Harry said, interrupting their argument. "I'd imagine that would be expensive . . ." 

"Oh, I won't be able to go out drinking every night with you two, but I'll manage," she reassured him. 

"I was going to say . . . if you really want to leave your parents' house, you're welcome at my place. You don't have to go through all this trouble," he offered hastily. 

"Thanks, Harry, but it's a moot point. I've already signed the lease," she said. _And thank goodness. I might have been tempted otherwise . . . but no. It hurts enough knowing that he's with someone else. It'd hurt so much more having to watch that, day in and day out. _"When you two are finished, shall I show my new flat to you? So you can inspect it and help me figure out what furniture to take later?" she asked, hoping that would change the subject. 

"Sounds good to me," Ron said. "Better for us to stretch our legs a bit after breakfast, rather than start slugging around spells right away." 

Harry nodded slowly, almost sadly to Hermione's eye. Briefly, she wondered if he missed her. _It doesn't matter_, she told herself. _Once it might have given me hope, but it's high time that I move on with my life._   


**Author's note:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. ^_^ I really do appreciate it. The next chapter should be ready by Friday. Once again, the first draft is done but it's twice as long so hopefully I can edit faster. 


	10. Chapter Ten : Birds

**Charming**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Ten : Birds**   


Glancing at the clock, Hermione stifled a curse before it left her throat. She had promised to meet Ron for lunch in ten minutes on Thursday the weekend before. She had been so caught up in her work that she had almost forgotten all about it. Working quickly, she assembled all the books she had to go through that afternoon in a big pile on her desk. Casting about until she found some quill and parchment, Hermione assembled the makings of a basic Puzzle Charm. While Puzzle Charms were no replacement for manually reading the text of each and every research book, they were excellent at finding words and key phrases within a group of texts. The charms did not require constant supervision, further increasing their usefulness. Hermione had begun to rely upon them to meet her deadlines as she had finally admitted that it was impossible for her to read every single thing that was ever written on any of her research subjects. 

She muttered the words of the spell quickly, and the charm soon set to work. Hermione knew that when she returned, there would be a list of places were the charm had found any reference to the Cyclops or any one-eyed monster for that matter. She would be able to use that list to narrow down her search for a list of its weaknesses once she returned from lunch. That being done, she reached down below her desk for her bag and set out the door. 

"Going out for lunch, Granger?" Malfoy asked from behind a large stack of scrolls on his desk. 

"Yeah, I promised I'd meet Ron today at Future Foretold," she told him. 

Malfoy grimaced. "Granger, your taste in restaurants is . . ." 

"Hey, what about being civil?" she reminded him. 

"I was going to say less than exquisite," he replied. "Though that is hardly being accurate." 

"True enough," she conceded. "But it is the fastest place to get your lunch. I've learned that lesson after trying to get to the Leaky Cauldron and back in a single hour." 

"You'd need a Time Turner to pull that one off," Malfoy said. "But again, the Leaky Cauldron is not high on my list of favorite places to eat." 

"Then why don't you suggest one of those places to me? As it is true that you're better acquainted with the Wizarding World outside of Hogwarts than I," Hermione said. 

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow. "I thought any such suggestion would have been perceived as rude. But if you're willing, how about tonight? I can owl the Forgotten Rose to make reservations for us." 

"Tonight?" Hermione repeated. "No, I'm sorry. I can't make it. This week is actually very bad for me as I'm busy putting everything away still in my flat." 

"You see, Granger, this is why I don't do nice things for you. I offer, but you always turn me down," Malfoy complained. 

"When else have I turned you down?" Hermione asked. 

"Last weekend, remember? You practically kicked me out of your house after I had waken up far too early on a Saturday morning to help you move," he replied. 

"Oh. That's right," Hermione said. "I had forgotten about that." 

"You've been working too hard, Granger. It doesn't sound like you to forget something like that." 

"Probably I have," she said. "I'm sorry to say no again, really I am, but if it's next week, I promise I won't turn you down a third time." 

"Next Wednesday after work then?" Malfoy asked. 

"That should be fine. And if you'll excuse me, I really must run," Hermione said. 

"Fine, fine. Have a nice lunch," he said, waving her off. "But I'm warning you, Granger. If you forget, I get one week where I can insult you freely without retaliation." 

"That's very childish, Malfoy," she said. 

He shrugged. "If that's what it takes to get you to remember a promise to your former arch-enemy . . ." 

"You were never that," Hermione said. "Annoying as hell and deserving of every hex and prank we sent your way, but never that." 

"I think your friends would beg to differ with that," he pointed out. 

"Ron . . . probably. He hates your family," she admitted. "But I like to think that Harry is more open-minded than that." 

Malfoy suddenly sighed. "Hermione, your willingness to give him the benefit of the doubt is sometimes . . . disheartening." 

"Huh?" 

"Nothing, forget I said that. Shouldn't you have left by now?" 

"Gah! Yes, I should have left five minutes ago. See you later!" Hermione sprinted out the door and towards the restaurant. By the time, she had reached Future Foretold, she was out of breath. 

Future Foretold was the Wizarding version of fast food, and it was almost as bad. The main difference was that instead of promising to have your food ready soon after you ordered, Future Foretold promised to have your food ready before you even arrived. Hermione liked to refer to it as the divination scam to end all divination scams. Nine times out of ten, the food the waitress put in front of her was nothing she would ever order on her own. As she arrived, she immediately saw Ron – he was easy to recognize given his bright-colored hair and height – and she made her way through the crowded restaurant, stopping only when she had reached his table. 

"Hello, Hermione," Ron said. "You're late." 

"I know," Hermione said. "I'm sorry about that." 

"It's all right." Ron frowned at the food in front of him. "I told the waitress that there were two of us . . . and she already brought the food as you can see." 

Hermione took the seat across from him, looking at the food on the table there. It looked like an ordinary salad, but it was best to check in the Wizarding World. "What is this?" she asked. 

"An ordinary garden salad, with Italian dressing on the side," Ron replied. "It should be safe. Not for me as I don't eat rabbit food, but you're a girl, so you ought to be happy with it." 

Hermione rolled her eyes. Salad was fine with her, but not for the reason that Ron implied. Unlike other witches in her peer group, she did not obsess over her weight. "And what do you have?" she asked. 

"Surprise stew with bread on the side," Ron replied faintly. 

"That's not Transfiguration Surprise stew, I hope," she said. 

"Merlin! I was trying to not to think of that ever again! Did you have to remind me?" It had taken Ron all of a day before figuring out he should never eat on the job while working at the twins' joke shop. They had presented him with a perfectly innocent-looking bowl of stew on his first day as a treat for lunch. It was only after Ron had finished devouring it when they revealed it was Transfiguration Surprise stew. 

Then they had told him that the stew had originally been a big mass of slugs before they had changed it. 

Ron's reaction to that news was best left to the imagination. He had yet to trust anything else that the twins offered him to eat since then. 

"The bread ought to be safe," Ron said, pushing the bowl away from him. "Why do you always chose to eat here, Hermione? Why not some place decent like the Leaky Cauldron?" 

"That's because not all of us have lenient bosses who don't care how long our lunches might run," she told him. "Unlike you, I have a set schedule to stick to." 

"That must be awful," he said. 

"It's actually not that bad," she replied. 

"I guess I'll get something to eat after we're finished here," he said. Chewing on his bread, he continued, "So is there anything you want to talk about?" 

"Like what?" Hermione asked. 

"You know . . . if there's something that you feel the need to get off your chest . . ." Ron hinted broadly. 

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Hermione replied with asperity. 

"I mean you don't have to pretend around me. That you're not . . . upset over what happened last week," Ron said. 

"Me? Upset?" Hermione said nonchalantly. "I admit I thought it was a tad rude for Harry to . . . surprise me like that, but honestly! There is nothing for me to get upset about." 

"Hermione, this is me, remember? Ron, your best friend since you were eleven. I can tell when you're lying," he said. 

"Oh really?" 

"Yes, because that big fake grin of yours screams that you're not happy," he replied. 

"I do not have a big fake grin!" she objected. 

"Fine. Deny it if you wish. But I know what I've seen grow between the two of you . . . and if you ever need to talk to someone, you can always come to me. Okay?" 

"Thanks," she said. "Though I doubt I'll take you up on that offer." 

"Me too," he sighed. "And a bit of friendly advice. Harry's going to get a bit suspicious if you keep avoiding him." 

"I haven't been avoiding him," she said. 

"Oh yes you have. He's been complaining to me about it. Says that you must be mad at him because he hardly ever hears from you now," said Ron. 

"That's ridiculous," Hermione said. "The difference between now and then is that he saw me every day before I moved out. So naturally, it seems like I'm not talking to him as often simply because we don't live together any more. But that doesn't mean I'm avoiding him." 

"Hermione, when was the last time you talked to Harry?" Ron questioned. 

"Last Saturday, when you two helped me move," she promptly replied. 

"And have you heard from him since?" Ron continued. 

"Yes, he's owled me every day since. It's getting to be annoying. I'm not about to wither away and die because he doesn't want me around any more." 

"That wasn't my point. My point is that the old Hermione would have responded to every owl, instead of making Harry worry whether there's anything wrong with you." 

"I've been busy," Hermione explained. "Between work and trying to get settled in, I haven't had much time." 

"Yet you have the time to meet me for lunch." 

"I can't very well meet Harry for lunch as our schedules don't coincide." 

"That sounds like you're making excuses to me," Ron said sharply. 

"Fine, fine. I need a break anyway," Hermione said. She took a bite of her salad, considering what they could do that evening. "Hey Ron . . . remember that time we took you to a Muggle theatre to see a move?" 

"Yeah. That was a disaster. What sort of place doesn't let you talk back to the gorgeous blonde whose making eyes at you?" 

Hermione's eyes sought the ceiling, and she sternly commanded herself to be patience. "Ron, it was a movie. The blonde wasn't talking to you, she was . . .oh never mind! The point is she wasn't talking to you or anyone else in the theatre, and you're supposed to be quiet and watch the show." 

"What's the fun in that?" Ron asked. 

"It can actually be quite entertaining," Hermione said. "I was going to suggest that the three of us could get together and see a movie tonight. That is, if you're willing to keep your mouth shut for the duration of the film." 

"I don't know about that," Ron said. 

"Well, I don't feel like getting kicked out and told never to return because the dumb redhead with us can't keep his mouth shut no matter how many times we tried to tell him to stop talking," Hermione remarked. 

"Fine, fine. I'll give it a try. If you promise me that you'll come with me to attend Harry's first home game," he said. 

"If it doesn't conflict with my work, then yeah," she agreed. "I've never missed a game of his before. I don't know why you think I'd start now." 

"Oh you know perfectly well why I think you'd start now," Ron retorted. "So the three of us tonight, right?" 

"Yes," Hermione said. "Could you meet me outside my work?" 

"That's fine. And you'll owl Harry to invite him?" 

"I think that I might be busy this afternoon, so it might be better if—" Hermione stopped at the glare Ron was giving her. "Fine then. I'll owl him as I can see you don't want to help your poor, overworked friend." 

"Harry's really worried about you, you know," Ron told her. "Try and reply to those owls once in awhile, okay? He needs you more than you think." 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please. Harry's a big boy now. He's perfectly capable of taking care of himself." 

"Just because a person is perfectly capable of taking care of himself doesn't mean that he wants to. That can get lonely." 

"Trust me, Ron, I am all too aware of that," Hermione said shortly. "I don't need anyone to lecture me on what loneliness feels like." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

When Hermione hadn't replied to his owl on Monday, Harry had put it up to her either being too busy at work, too tired from moving, or a combination of both. When she hadn't replied to the two owls he sent on Tuesday, he had wondered if they had been delivered properly, which earned him a peck on the head from Hedwig. By Wednesday, he was convinced that she must be upset at him and therefore, duly ignoring him. 

He hated it when Hermione ignored him. It was as simple as that. 

When Harry received a reply from Hermione on Thursday afternoon – finally! – he was overjoyed. It got even better when he read how she wanted to meet him and Ron to go see a movie and maybe dinner after work that day. 

His bubble was burst, though, when she confirmed his suspicions by insisting that Ron sit in the middle instead of him. Hermione had claimed the seating arrangement was because she wanted to keep an eye on Ron, as he had caused them to be kicked out the last time they had tried to see a movie together, but Harry knew better. A simple silencing charm would have done the trick. He had even mentioned it to Hermione, but she had glared at him and told him that she didn't see any reason to treat Ron like a second-class citizen. 

Those words had stung. 

Hence, instead of a fun night out with his best friends, Harry was absolutely miserable. It was no fun being on the outside. Ron wasn't ignoring him exactly, but he wasn't his normal talkative self. Of course, this wasn't an entirely bad thing as it meant that Ron was paying attention to the movie. 

Except for those times when Hermione leaned over to whisper a comment in his ear. 

_That should have been me she's whispering to_, Harry thought jealously. _I've already apologized. I'd apologize again if it'd make things better. Hell! I'd do just about anything to make things better . . .if she could let me know what she's so mad about! Witches! In some things, they're all alike! _He scowled. 

After the movie had ended, Harry trailed along sullenly as Hermione and Ron chattered brightly amongst themselves. This was worse than the brief time that Hermione and Ron had decided to try dating each other. At least then, they had both made it clear that they still considered him to be their best friend and wanted him to remain so. 

"Something wrong there, mate?" Ron asked him. 

"No. Not that I know of," Harry replied bluntly. 

Ron let out a long-suffering sigh. Hermione merely ignored him . . . again. 

"You know what would be nice?" Harry began. "It would be nice if a certain someone would let me know what she's upset about, instead of ignoring me all the time." 

That caught Hermione's attention. "I'm not upset, and I am definitely not ignoring you," she said. 

"Really? So why did it take you so long to reply to all the owls I sent you?" he asked. 

"I was busy, Harry. I have a new job, I have a new flat . . . surely you can understand that?" 

"So busy that you never had five free minutes to scribble out a reply?" he asked disbelievingly. 

"I replied to you today. I invited you to see a movie." 

"And you've been ignoring me since," Harry complained petulantly. 

"You're being impossible. If I was ignoring you, I wouldn't be talking to you right now," Hermione said. 

"I am not being impossible. You're being . . . you're being a brat, for lack of a better term," he said. 

"Harry, if you mean bitch, say it," Hermione retorted. 

"I didn't mean that so I didn't say that. I'm only asking you to let me know why you're upset . . . and don't say you're not. We've been friends for how long now, Hermione? And this is the first time I feel like you don't want me in your life any more," Harry told her. 

"Welcome to the club," she mumbled under her breath. 

"Is that what's this about?" he asked. "Oh Hermione . . . I wish you'd have said something . . . I was only celebrating, I didn't mean to chase you out. I've not seen her since." He paused to lift up her chin so he could meet her eyes. "You should know that you mean more to me than a random witch I've just met." 

"Of course, Harry," she replied bitterly. "You've a lovely way of showing that." 

"Okay, I'll let that one slide. I deserved that. But . . . please Hermione . . . don't be mad. And if that's not possible, at least be honest. At least admit that you're mad at me, okay? Because you being mad at me and ignoring me is bad enough . . . but you lying to me about it is even worse." 

Hermione sighed. "I tell myself that I ought not be mad. When I think about it logically, there's no reason for me to get upset. If anything, you ought to be upset since I intruded on you so suddenly—" 

"I was never mad at you for that," Harry said. 

"You two are going around in circles," Ron interrupted. "Harry doesn't want you to be mad, Hermione, and evidently you don't want to be either . . . but you are. Because you feel betrayed or—" 

"Hey! I didn't betray her!" Harry protested. 

"Sorry, bad choice of words on my part," Ron apologized. "But my point is . . . it's damn uncomfortable trying to be friends with you both when you're fighting like this . . . and I can see Hermione's side—" Ron yelped as Hermione kicked him. 

"Why did you do that for?" he asked, wincing. "See if I ever try to understand you again." 

"That was for your bad tendency to leap to conclusions," Hermione said. "But you're right about us going in circles." She sighed. "And to tell the truth, I'm more embarrassed about it now than anything else. So if we can drop it and all forget it . . . that would be nice," she concluded. 

"You're not upset any more?" Harry asked, not quite believing his ears. 

"I didn't say that. It's not easy to stop how you feel . . . but I'll try, okay?" 

"Which means if I owl you tomorrow . . ." 

"You'll get a quicker response," she said. "I can't promise an immediate response but . . ." 

"I know," Harry said. He smiled for what seemed like the first time in days. "But hearing from you more often sounds good to me. I do miss you." Hermione blushed at his words and looked at her feet, leaving him to wonder what was it she couldn't stop feeling for him. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

It was Friday night, and Hermione Granger had no plans. 

It was glorious. 

Back when she was living with Harry, it seemed as though they always had something to do on the weekend. It was exciting, yes, but sometimes Hermione yearned for a more laid back lifestyle. She liked having nothing to do, nowhere to go, at times. It allowed her to take deep breaths, to catch up on her reading, and to really relax. 

Which was precisely what she was doing now. 

Hermione had already pampered herself by taking an hour-long soak in her bathtub. She had ordered out for pizza, rather than attempting to cook, and now she was settling on to her couch with a good book in hand. 

Life was good. 

Hermione dozed off after finishing her dinner, lulled to sleep by her full stomach and the music that was softly emanating from her stereo. It was a bit after eight when she was awoken by a sharp rap on the door. 

Startled as she hadn't expected anyone and a bit groggy from being woken up so abruptly, she made her way to the door. Hermione looked at the clock, which told her that she had been asleep for a couple of hours. She opened the door, wondering who it could possibly be. 

To her surprise, Harry Potter was standing outside it, with a piece of luggage in one hand and Hedwig's cage in the other. 

"May I come in?" he asked, but he didn't wait for a reply to do so. 

"Certainly," Hermione said tardily. "Make yourself at home." 

"Thanks." He set his luggage and the cage down. Bending over, he opened the cage, setting Hedwig free to stretch her wings. 

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked. 

"I'm moving in," he replied. 

"What?" 

"You heard me." 

"But why?" she asked, for once in her life completely dumbfounded. 

"Because I've been kicked out of my old flat, that's why," he replied. 

"But why?" she heard herself asking again. 

"It's your fault you know," he told her. 

"How is it my fault that you got evicted tonight?" 

"You remember Mrs. Stewart, right? My former landlady. The one who you told that you were my fiancée." Harry strolled across the room and took a seat on her couch. "Turns out that she could hear . . . well, you know." 

"I still don't see how this is my fault," Hermione said. 

"I'm getting there. It seemed that she remarked to one of my neighbors earlier today when they met at the chemist, how Potter and his fiancée are a charming couple, but she wishes that they'd be quieter . . . and he tells her that he can't blame me because my young, _blonde _fiancée was quite the looker." 

"Oh." 

"Yeah. So she knows you're not blonde and gets suspicious. She sets up an alarm to let her know when I get home so at least she's not waiting in ambush, but I'm not home ten minutes, when she's there, demanding to see you. When I tell her that you've moved out, she goes spare, tells me how she's sorry to have ever met me, that I'm a complete cad, and that I better move out this evening. I didn't want to make a bigger scene, so I started packing my bags, and here I am," Harry finished. 

Hermione winced. She supposed that she was a teensy bit at fault, though she thought Harry was more at fault as it would have never happened if he had used a silencing charm. Better yet, it would have never happened if he had never slept with that witch, who he apparently didn't even care for. 

"So you came here to crash for the evening?" she asked. That was not subtle, but Hermione did not know how she could obliquely hint that she'd prefer for him to live elsewhere. _After I've resolved to get over him . . . he moves in_, she reflected silently. _This is not good for my health, mental and otherwise._

"Actually, I came to move in," he replied evenly. 

"What?" was Hermione's startled exclamation. 

"I thought you said you'd try and not be upset with me," he said tersely. 

"I did . . . and I'm not . . . but . . ." she stammered. "I thought you'd . . . you'd prefer a place with more privacy." 

"You have a spare room," he pointed out. "But fine. If you don't want me here, I'll leave." 

"No, no," Hermione protested. _Damn. I should let him leave. I don't need this . . . but I can't turn him out. What sort of friend would I be? If I did that . . . I'd deserve my broken heart._ "You're more than welcome here. I wouldn't refuse you. You know that. You let me stay with you although you had less space . . . if it's fine with you, then please stay." 

Harry stared at her, the look in his eyes inscrutable. "Hermione . . . I would rather not stay here if we're going to argue all the time," he said. 

"I don't think that we'll argue all the time. Your name is Harry Potter, right? You've not morphed into Ron Weasley?" That comment of Hermione's earned a smile out of him. "I was shocked, that's all." She laughed softly. "I guess . . . I know what you must have been feeling that night when I barged in on you." 

"Hardly," Harry replied with a grin. "For that, I'd have to Apparate and land on your head." 

Hermione winced. "I am glad you spared me that. But I am afraid to say that my spare room is unfurnished . . . I hadn't figured out if I wanted to make it a spare bedroom or a study and so I've not done anything with it yet." 

"If you'd rather have a study—" 

"I'd rather have a friend," Hermione said emphatically. _And that is true. I would rather have Harry here as my friend than to not ever see him again. It may be painful but . . . but to throw away seven years of friendship because he doesn't return my feelings? I'd always hated witches who acted like that, and I'm not going to be a hypocrite. At least I'm going to try not to be, and I'm going to try, really try, to be nicer . . . I just hope that lasts when I see him with someone else again._

"If you're sure . . ." Harry said hesitantly. 

"Positive." She smiled. "Besides, Crookshanks was getting lonely being by himself all day." 

"So was Hedwig actually. It's fortunate that our pets like each other, isn't it?" 

"Very," she agreed. "But back to the no furniture bit . . ." 

"I'll sleep on the couch, of course," he told her. "And this time you won't convince me otherwise." 

"What about everything you had before?" she asked. 

"That? It came with the flat so it's not mine to take. That was one of the reasons I took the place originally," he said. "And tomorrow, we can shop for new furniture. I can afford it." 

"You know, I never thought I'd hear that . . ." 

"Hear what?" 

"I never thought I'd hear a wizard volunteer to go shopping with a witch. Even if it's for a good cause, such as furniture for you to use. I thought spending a day shopping was the stuff nightmares were made of." 

"No, not quite," Harry said, with a sad look on his face, as if remembering past events. 

"I suppose not," Hermione said. That had been rash of her to say that. She knew what Harry's nightmare were made of. Anyone who had lived through those years at Hogwarts knew that. "I'm sorry," she whispered. 

"It was never your fault," he said. "So don't tell me sorry, okay? That only makes me feel worse." 

"Sorry," she said again, feeling guilty for making him feel worse. 

He sighed. "Don't be. Just don't be." 

"I'll try," she said. Suddenly remembering the pizza she had ordered earlier, she asked, "Would you like something to eat?" 

"That depends. Did you cook it? If so, then no," he said. 

"Bastard." Hermione marched over to where Harry stood, determined to stomp on his feet, but he was too quick for her. 

"I knew that was coming. You can be too predictable at times," he said. 

"You say that as if it's a bad thing . . . wait, it is a bad thing! I don't want to be predictable!" 

"No, it's not. And predictable can be good. I like that about you, you know. That I almost always know where you stand. That I know I can count on you to be by my side, no matter what else is going on, no matter what anyone else is saying about me." 

"Thanks," Hermione said. "I could say the same about you." 

"I hope so," Harry mumbled, half to himself. "Sometimes I wonder, but I really do hope so." 

"So about dinner . . ." 

"Did you cook it?" 

"I ordered out." 

"You ordered out what?" 

"Pizza." 

"Typical." 

"Hey! I normally do not order out pizza!" Hermione stated. 

"No, you don't. But you have to admit, you're more prone to eat out than I am," Harry reasoned with her. 

"That's only because you're a better cook." 

"I know. You'd think that someone who is as good at Potions at you would be tolerably skilled in the kitchen," he noted. 

"Cooking and brewing potions are two entirely different things," said Hermione. 

"Obviously. But if it's pizza, I'll take some." He grinned. "And tomorrow, you can count on me to cook dinner. As I know you can't rely on yourself for that." 

Hermione smiled back. She would not have chosen for him to move in with her, not after that evening, but she was not going to turn her back on him now. She thought that this would be a good test of her resolve to get over him . . . and that it would be good for her as well. 

After all, no matter how upset, frustrated, or disappointed she had been with him in that last week, she had always missed his friendship.   
  


**Author's note:** I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. As always, I would really appreciate it if you could leave me a review to let me know what you thought of it. The next one should be up on Friday once again. 

Finally, thanks to **Carolyn**, **LeslieGlady**, **Laydeextrinity**, **Star19**, **bamaslamma29**, **rodrigo**, **Harpee-Lady**, **nienie**, **malu**, **Crinos-X**, **Fatima**, **mikeus**, **Muse**, **sweetheart87**, **Tiffie101**, **ears91**, **Bad Boy Harry**, **Sarmi**, **sally**, **Izabel**, **Seakays**, **Leah6**, **athipsou**, **candygoddess,** **Jen**, **Ramy**, **Ravenclaw's Heir, avada kedavra**, **becka5**, **v-weasley**, **rokjai**, **dRaCo_LoVeR****, **angie2190**, **Kage Miko**, and **Katebo **for their reviews of the last chapter. ^_^ I really am grateful that you took the time to leave them. 


	11. Chapter Eleven : Never Ever

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Eleven : Never Ever**

It was the aroma of bacon and eggs that awoke Hermione the next day from her sleep. She frowned, wondering why she was smelling breakfast when she had not set any cooking charms the night before. Sitting up in her bed, she looked over at the clock, which read half past eight. Hermione yawned and rubbed the sleep away from her eyes before finally getting out of bed. She was not about to forgo breakfast simply because she could not recall casting that cooking charm last night. Her stomach was too empty to let her get away with that. 

Still half-asleep, Hermione was surprised when she saw who had been cooking all this time. 

"Good morning," said Harry cheerfully. "Do you want some coffee?" 

Hermione blinked. _When did he get here? And what is he doing here so early in the morning? Best ask him, I guess. _"Why are you here?" she asked. 

He looked at her critically. "Still sleeping?" he muttered. "Don't you remember last night?" 

_Last night? Nothing happened last night . . . and certainly nothing happened between us._ She sighed softly. _But then, I never had a chance, did I?_

"Do you remember anything about me being thrown out of my flat . . . ?" 

"Oh!" Hermione said. "You were? How did that happen?" 

"Yes, I was." He handed her a cup of coffee. "Drink it, Hermione. You're still sleeping." 

She took the cup from him and inhaled its rich aroma. It was better than chocolate. She took a sip and sat down at the table. "Remind me again why you're here?" she asked. 

"Because I happened to get kicked out of my flat," Harry repeated. "Should I hold off on telling you all this until you're more coherent?" 

"I am coherent," she said, frowning. "I'm always that." 

"I thought so until I saw how you are in the mornings." 

"Be nice," she chided him. Her face wrinkled up as she tried to recall the events of last night . . . and how Harry had arrived at her doorstep. All at once, it hit her. "And now I remember! Mrs. Stewart told you to leave last night, and you came here. Because you had no where else to go." 

"Took you long enough." 

"It's early on a Saturday morning. And I stayed up far too late last night." 

"It's not my fault that you kept insisting on rematches." 

Hermione scowled. "Bad enough that I always lose to Ron in Wizarding chess, but to you as well? I ought never to touch the game." 

"But if you did that, Ron would be heartbroken," said Harry. 

"I doubt that. More likely, the two of you would come up with some witty repartee whenever you brought the chess board out on how I can't play anymore as the chess pieces won't listen to me." 

"Good idea! I'll have to jot that one down to share with Ron later." 

"Hey! Think up your own insults!" 

"Why? When you're willing to do the work for me?" 

Hermione snorted. It was time to change the subject. "I thought we were supposed to go shopping today?" 

"Yes. Because you said your spare room is completely empty." 

"It is," she said. "Do you know of any furniture shops we could visit?" 

"I'm one step ahead of you. I've already owled Mrs. Weasley asking her where we can find furniture here in London." 

"And?" 

"She said that there's this street off of Diagon Alley called Spectacular Row that we should visit." 

Hermione shot a hard look at Harry. "That wasn't very funny," she said. 

"I wasn't trying to be. That is actually the name of the street." 

"You must be kidding." 

"Except that I'm not." 

"Sometimes I have to wonder who named half the streets and shops in the Wizarding World," she said. 

"I know. Whoever did had an . . . interesting sense of humor." 

Hermione yawned. It was too early for her to be up without more caffeine in her system. Finishing her cup in a single gulp, she headed back to the counter to refill it. She added her cream and sugar there, and then returned to her seat at the table. "When do you want to leave?" she asked. 

"It doesn't open for a bit, so there's no rush. Maybe in a couple hours? As there's no rush but—" 

"We should probably try to get an early start anyway so it doesn't take all day," Hermione added. 

"I doubt that will happen," Harry said. 

"Have you ever really shopped for anything?" Hermione asked. 

"Yes," he said. "School supplies every August." 

"That doesn't count." 

"Says who?" 

"Ask any witch and she'll tell you the same. It takes time to chose things, Harry, and to make sure that everything goes together and . . ." 

"I think I'm beginning to see why wizards shudder at the thought at having to go shopping with a witch," he said. 

"If you like, I can stay here," Hermione offered. It was immature, but she couldn't resist sticking her tongue out at him. 

"No, no, I'm sure I'll need your help. Besides, I thought I might get a few things for the living room as well as it's . . . it's . . ." 

"Sparsely furnished," Hermione supplied for him. She shrugged. "I'll be the first to admit that, but I haven't had much time to go around looking for new stuff." 

"You work too hard," he said. 

"Hopefully not for much longer," she said. "Just for this one last project, I hope. So do I actually smell breakfast, or am I hallucinating out of hunger?" 

"Yes, that's breakfast. Would you like some?" 

"No, I'm getting full off of the fumes." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, of course I would like some." 

"You could have just said that," Harry said. 

"Yes, but you should know by now that I am not a morning person," she said. 

"That shocked me when I figured that out. I had thought that you always got up so early to study because you enjoyed being up at the crack at dawn." 

"Ha! I would have never done that if I could have studied later into the night, but oh well. At least, it put me in good stead for actually having a job." 

He placed a full plate in front of her, and she dug in. It was delicious. Whatever else could be said about Harry – such as the fact that he had atrocious taste in witches – the boy was a good cook. Noticing that he was not eating along with her, she asked, "Aren't you hungry?" 

"No, I ate earlier." 

"How long have you been up?" she asked. 

"A little over an hour," he replied. 

"How about you go and get ready first before I tie up the bathroom for the next hour?" she suggested. 

"You never take that long," said Harry. 

That was true. She never took that long, but Hermione had remembered one of her rules from living with him. She didn't want to use them any longer for they were only a crutch used to prop up her crush. She needed to prove to herself that she could break them and not embarrass herself by jumping him. If she could, then perhaps there was hope that Hermione could one day get over what she felt for him. But for now, she had to concentrate on not needing her rules one rule at a time. 

"I know," she said. "It was just an expression. Wizards always complain how long it takes witches to get ready." 

"I can't imagine anyone saying that about you," Harry said. 

Hermione suppressed the urge to slap the boy. Was he trying to imply that there was no use in her trying to look good? Or was he extraordinarily dull and attempting to compliment her? "I'm not sure if that's a compliment," she finally settled on saying. 

"It is, it is. You don't take that long, and you don't need to. You look good anyway," he said. 

Damn! It was always like this. With just one remark, he was able to take her breath away and make her wish that . . . but it was best not to think that way. "Go on," she said over the lump in her throat. "Get ready. You cooked, so I'll wash the dishes." 

"Okay," he said. 

After he left the kitchen, Hermione furiously wiped away at her tears. _This is no good_, she thought. _I can't start crying every time I think of . . . damn! Again! Pull yourself together, Hermione! He won't be in the shower forever._

Fortunately for her, she was able to do that before he returned. Not wanting another conversation with him at the moment, she smiled and fled towards the bathroom herself, on the pretext that she wanted to leave as soon as possible. What started out as a pretext, however, turned out to be necessary once they reached Spectacular Row. 

As Mrs. Weasley had promised, there were plenty of furniture shops there. Too many, in fact, to look through in one day. 

They started their search in a promising shop called Enchanting Embellishments. Hermione thought that the prices were a bit high, but Harry pointed out that the quality more than made up for it. Hermione shrugged her agreement, as it was Harry's pocket that would be lightened. It was going well, with Harry selecting a bedroom set to his liking, when the shopkeeper noticed who his first customer of the day was. The shopkeeper became effusive with thanks, insisting that Harry take the set for free and calling for one of his assistants to go fetch a camera so he could get his picture taken with Harry Potter. Hermione did not wait to hear anything else. Holding Harry by one arm, she dragged him out of the store. 

"What did you do that for?" he asked when she stopped on the pavement in front of it. 

"I didn't think that you'd want that exchange. That man was obviously looking to use you in an ad," Hermione said. 

"I knew that. I was going to tell him that I wasn't interested in that sort of a deal," he said. 

"I don't think he was going to ask." 

"I know." He sighed. "Let's drop it, okay? Something tells me this is going to be a long day without us snapping at each other." 

"I hate to admit it, but I think you're right," she agreed. 

It turned out to be a very long day indeed. A good half of the shops they visited, they had to leave immediately because of the attention Harry attracted. After each escape, Harry would brush at his fringe, trying to cover up his scar. It was cute and endearing, and it was all Hermione could do not to help him. Another good portion of shops had nothing that either of them was willing to purchase. Harry rather caustically pointed out that he would like to buy something that was made within the last five centuries, causing Hermione to choke on her laughter. Some of the furniture may have been antiques, but she didn't want to be awoken in the middle of the night because of Harry breaking his old bed due to too much activity. 

It was not until well past five in the afternoon before they finally made a purchase, at a shop nestled between two larger ones. Hermione suspected that the old witch who owned it was half blind and so couldn't see who was handing her the galleons in payment, but she was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. When the transactions was completed, Hermione whipped out her wand to perform a shrinking spell, so they could carry his purchases home. 

"Finally," she said. "I didn't think it would take that long." 

"Me too," he said. "Hermione . . ." 

"Yes?" 

"I know I promised to cook dinner tonight, but would it be all right if we ate out instead? As I'm too bloody tired to cook anything after today." 

"That's fine with me, Harry," Hermione said. "The sooner we eat, the sooner we can go to sleep." 

"And sleep sounds like such a good idea now," Harry said. 

"I know. I never want to go shopping with you again." 

"Hey!" 

"Well, not unless you're in disguise . . ." Hermione groaned as she realized that was what they should have done. 

"Why didn't you think of that earlier?" Harry whinged. 

"Believe you me, I'm busy kicking myself for not. That would have made it so much easier." 

"At least, we'll know better next time," he said. 

"There is that," she said. "So where do you want to eat?" 

"The Leaky Cauldron. Because Tom won't try to snap photos of us all throughout dinner," Harry said. 

"That is an excellent idea," Hermione said. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

It was Monday morning and once again, Hermione Granger was dragging her feet into her office. Somehow, Hermione was never at her best on a Monday morning. There was something about the day that always managed to throw her off. This time around, she thought the fault was with her weekend – she felt as if she had hardly slept a wink the whole time. After her strenuous Saturday looking for furniture, she had hoped to have a more restful Sunday. Her on-again, off-again roommate, however, had other ideas that included dragging her off for a picnic. It had been fun, up until the point where Harry had thought it would be a brilliant idea to try and teach her how to ride a broom. 

The only good thing about that particular escapade was that Harry now knew just how scared she was of heights. If you asked her, she would have said that was not worth it as she hadn't been able to sleep for thinking about that horrific experience. 

"You look like hell, Granger," Malfoy said to her by way of greeting. 

"I love your concept of politeness," she snapped back. It's too early for this, she thought. I've only had one cup of coffee. 

"I thought you appreciated honesty," he said mildly. 

"Sod off," she said. 

"I am detecting more than little hostility here. Tell me, Granger, what have I done?" He sat up in his seat, leaning towards her. "I haven't seen you since Friday so clearly I'm not responsible for whatever got your knickers in a twist." 

Hermione resisted the urge to go and kick the smarmy bastard's desk. He was right, damn it. Though she supposed it was not unexpected that Malfoy would have the gall to be smart enough to see what was bothering her on a Monday morning. For all his faults, he was smart. Sighing, she said, "I had an awful weekend. Can we just leave it at that?" 

"That bad?" he asked. 

"Yes, damn it." She stomped over to her desk and sat down. 

"Fine, I won't ask. But I'm sure it could have been worse." 

"Oh, I sincerely doubt that." 

"Just think. On top of everything else that happened, your perky roommate could have moved back in with you." He paused when he saw Hermione's face twist up in a grimace. "Merlin. Don't tell me that—" 

"He did. Though he had practice early today, so he wasn't there for too long this morning." 

"You have my condolences," Malfoy said gravely. 

Hermione looked at him, wondering what he was up to. "Might one inquire as to the sudden change in your attitude?" 

He sighed. "Granger, you're not very forthcoming when it comes to making small talk, no matter what I say. So I thought if I was bluntly honest, I might get a response out of you. So you could say that I was being true to the spirit, if not the letter, of our agreement." 

"Remind me again why you didn't decide to become a barrister?" 

"Too much work." 

"I suppose that's true." She frowned. "Though I was very surprised when I learned that you didn't even bother trying out for any Quidditch teams." 

"Because I would like to live to see my thirtieth birthday," he replied. 

"There must be something wrong with my ears. A wizard admitting that Quidditch is dangerous? Has hell frozen over? Have pigs grown wings? Has—" 

"Ha, ha, ha. Very funny, Granger. I give you full marks for the effort, but you need to work on your delivery," he said sarcastically. "If you must know, Quidditch would be more dangerous for me than for Potter given my father's . . . loyalties. There are some Beaters in the professional league that are wickedly accurate, you know." 

"Oh," she said. "Did you want to play professionally?" 

"At one time, yes. But it grew to be more of a duty rather than something I did for fun as I grew older." He shrugged. "I find that I don't miss it that much." 

"I would have never expected you to say that," said Hermione. 

"I know," Malfoy said. "Neither would I when I was younger." He smiled. The expression lit up his face, and for once, Hermione could appreciate what other witches saw in him. "But it's amazing how much you can surprise yourself and everyone around you if you give yourself the chance." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Twisting her hair into a bun, Hermione trotted into the kitchen. "Good morning," she said as she passed by Harry, who was sitting at the table and reading the Prophet. 

"Good morning, Hermione," he said. He smiled, thinking that she looked absolutely lovely. Though try telling her that she's pretty, and she won't believe you. I wonder who is to blame for that, he pondered silently. "You're looking good today," he told her. 

"Thank you," she said with a smile. "I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you had an early practice today." She poured herself a cup of coffee and returned to the table. Harry offered her the front page of the newspaper, which she gladly took, before returning to read the sports section. 

"It's been canceled," he said. "Our coach's wife had a baby girl last night, so he hasn't had much sleep and canceled the morning practice. There might be a practice later today though." 

"Lucky for you." 

"Um . . . I don't know about that. I'm sure he'll make up for it later this week." 

"So are you going to enjoy your day off?" 

"It might only be a half day. In fact, I rather expect to get called in later, if only to go through drills with the assistant coach." 

"Fine. What are you going to do to enjoy your half day off?" 

"I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it." Harry shrugged. "Which reminds me . . . do you want to go out to dinner?" 

"What's the occasion?" Hermione asked. 

"None really. More of a thank you for letting me stay than anything else," he said. 

"I've told you that you needn't worry about that. You did the same for me." 

"I know. But . . . well, I'd like to thank you." 

"I'm surprised you're not sick of me by now," Hermione said, laughing. "We spent all of Saturday and Sunday together, and then yesterday night, we stayed up late watching movies . . ." 

"Not to mention the seven years before that?" Harry added. "Honestly, Hermione. You should know that I couldn't get sick of being with you." 

"I could have sworn there were some times when you wanted to be rid of me," she replied. "Especially in our—" 

"No fair bringing up ancient history," he said. 

"Harry, we're not even twenty yet. We don't have any ancient history to bring up!" 

"It's all relative. I think we do, and anything before we were friends qualifies. So about dinner . . . ?" 

"I'm sorry, Harry. I can't tonight. I'm supposed to see my parents tonight. You can come if you want though." 

Harry winced. He didn't think it would be a good idea for him to see Hermione's father again for awhile, given his predilection to being hostile towards her male friends. Especially not after she had spent a few days at her parents' house, after suddenly leaving Harry's flat the way she did. "I think I'll pass on that one. How about tomorrow?" 

"Tomorrow?" Her brow furrowed, as she thought about that. "I can't tomorrow either. I've a previous engagement." 

"With who?" he asked. 

"A co-worker," she replied evasively. 

"Are you trying to hide something from me, Hermione?" 

"No, not at all," she said, but Harry knew she was lying. For one, she was refusing to look at him and staring intently at her coffee instead. For another, Hermione was biting her lip, as if she was afraid that something was going to upset him. 

"Hermione, I don't mind you not being able to go. I was only offering as a way to thank you." 

"I know." 

"So who are you going out with tomorrow night?" 

"You won't like it," she said. 

"Should that matter?" he asked. 

"No . . . but . . . okay. Promise you won't yell at me?" 

"Promise." 

"I promised Malfoy last week that I'd go out to dinner with him on Wednesday." 

Harry's jaw dropped. That could not be true. He knew he couldn't be hearing her right. Malfoy wanting anything to do with Hermione . . . it was not bloody likely. "What did you say?" he asked. 

"I said I'm going out with Malfoy tomorrow," she repeated herself. "I said I'd go out with him, so I can't go with you." 

**Author's note**: That's it for this week. The next chapter should be up on Friday once again. I hope you enjoyed this one and I'd be grateful if you could please leave a review to let me know what you think. 

Finally, thanks to **Carolyn**, **Danski**, **LeslieGlady**, **Anonymous9**, **mikeus**, **v-weasley**, **Leah6**, **Katebo**, **Shawn Pickett**, **ears91**, **Phoebe**, **Blood57**, **MasterDeath**, **Candy**, **sally**, **myman-harry526**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **ravenclaw's heir**, **malu**, **Cool Like Ice**, **Kage Miko**, **iceangel**, **Fatima**, **Jen**, **rodrigo**, **rokjai**, **athipsou**, **aveda kedavra**, **Broken_wings**, **hpangel**, **Lightning Sky**, **tOmLoVeR17**, **Emma-Lee14**, **LilyEvansPotter3**,**bamaslamma29**, **Seakays**, **monkeychika2006**, **TheSilverLady**, and **zidane3** for their reviews of the last chapter. ^_^ Thanks everyone! I really appreciate the reviews you left. 


	12. Chapter Twelve : Far Away

**Charming**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Twelve : Far Away**

Harry blinked slowly, completely stunned into silence. He could hardly credit what he had just heard from Hermione. Hermione willingly spending any time with Malfoy? This was like a scene out of nightmare for him. Perhaps that was the ticket. Maybe this was a nightmare. If it was, he could not wait to wake up. 

"So let me get this straight," he said, "you really have plans to go . . . to dinner with Malfoy on Wednesday?" 

"I've already said that twice, Harry," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "How many times do I have to repeat myself before you get that?" 

Harry pinched himself. Nothing changed. If this was a nightmare, it was an awfully persistent one. "Well, forgive me for finding it hard to believe that you'd want to spend more time than you have to with that ferret," he said. "Don't you get enough of him having to work with him day in and day out?" 

"You know, you could be a bit more open-minded," she said. "He has changed a lot since we first met him. And the both of us have him to thank for having this flat to live in." 

"Hermione! Will you listen to yourself? This is Malfoy, remember? I don't want to repeat half the things he's called you over the years, not to mention the fact that his dad is still locked up in Azkaban for being . . ." 

"I don't think one should hold him accountable for the fact that his dad's a complete bastard," Hermione said. 

"His dad is more than that! He's a murderer, plain and simple!" 

"I know that, Harry. Trust me, I'm not about to waltz into Azkaban to spend some quality time with Lucius Malfoy. But as for Draco Malfoy . . . he has been decent to me lately, and I think he deserves a second chance. Although I suppose we never gave him a first one." 

"That's because he never deserved a first one!" 

"Harry! I cannot believe you just said that. Of course, he deserves a chance. Everyone does." 

"Not him," Harry spat out. "How do you think Ron will react to this? You know, Ron's always hated the bastard and . . ." 

"I know, but again, Malfoy's never had a chance with Ron because who his father is." Hermione leveled a glare at Harry. "I must admit this isn't how I expected you to react. I thought you'd be more open-minded than this." 

"It's kind of hard to be open-minded about a bloke who hoped you would be killed when we were at Hogwarts." 

"When did he ever say that?" 

"Second year, don't you remember? When we used the Polyjuice Potion . . . oh, that's right. You weren't there. You were . . ." 

"I know. I'm still trying to forget those damn furballs." Hermione shuddered. "But that was a long time ago. And who knows? Maybe he didn't mean it. Maybe it was just for show." 

"It didn't sound like it was for show." 

"Well, of course you'd think so because you were pre-disposed to think the worst of him. You still are, I might add." 

"Hermione . . . we've been friends for seven years. We've known each other since we were eleven. I wish you'd trust my judgment here. This is a bad move. I don't know what he's up to . . ." 

"Maybe Malfoy's interested in some intelligent conversation over dinner?" Hermione sniffed and tossed her head. She hadn't thought that they'd argue over this, but there was a part of her that was thrilled that he was taking it so badly. That part of her had jumped for joy at his dismay when he heard that she had other plans. "I suppose you wouldn't understand that." 

Harry stiffened. "What is that supposed to mean, Hermione?" 

"Exactly what it seems to mean." 

"Enlighten me." 

"I didn't say a damn thing, Harry Potter, when you brought that witch home. Considering the fact that you were probably sloshed from celebrating, I doubt that you did a thorough background check before shagging her." 

"I don't see how my social life is relevant here." 

"I did not say anything to you. I did not scold you. I did not question your choice in witches. But when I decide to spend time with a wizard who is not you or Ron, all of a sudden, you treat me like a blooming idiot who doesn't know up from down." 

"That was different. You can't compare Serena with Malfoy. Her father's not a Death Eater for one." 

"Oh really? What House was she in at Hogwarts?" 

"Er . . . I didn't exactly ask . . ." 

"My point exactly." She walked over and stood toe to toe with him, glowering the whole time. "At least I know Malfoy's background. And if I give you the courtesy of not butting in to your social life, as you put it, then you damn well should do the same." She poked him sharply in the chest. "And before you get the brilliant idea of trying to follow me around on Wednesday, let me say here and now that if I catch a glimpse of you or Ron that evening, I will hex you into next year. Have I made myself clear?" Harry could only nod, but that seemed to satisfy Hermione. "If you will excuse me – and even if you won't – I will be going to bed. Good night!" She turned on her heel and exited the room. 

Harry sat down on the couch, still shaken by their argument. He had thought he could get Hermione to see sense and at least invite him or Ron along, but apparently she wasn't listening. He had a cold feeling deep in his gut that this would not end well. After all, for all intents and purposes, she was going on a date with the bastard. 

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought. It was hard to imagine Hermione on a date with anyone. Sure, there had been the Yule Ball when she went with Krum, but after that, she had always been too caught up in her studies to spend any time nurturing a relationship. That inexperience with hers combined with Malfoy's reputation for being a bastard . . . that combination was a disaster waiting to happen. Yet, if he was truly honest about the whole matter, it wasn't that which was troubling him the most. 

It was the idea that Hermione wanted to be with someone more than she wanted to be with him. 

It was stupid. It was so stupid the word hadn't been invented to properly describe its idiocy. But that thought was there all the same. Hermione had never rejected his company to spend time with someone else ever before. He had grown accustomed to that. He had come to depend on her always being there for him. Somewhere along the line, things had changed, and he desperately wanted to put things back the way they were . . . the way they should be. 

He leaned back on the couch, slowly lying down, trying to think of what he should do. Of course, what he should do would depend on what he ultimately wanted . . . and the scariest thing of all was that what he wanted was her. 

That was a very hard thing to admit. He wanted her. Those days that he had been all alone in his flat had been horrible. When she had left, it was as if she had taken part of him with her and the best part at that. Those days when she wouldn't even deign to respond to his owls were heart-breaking. He had been nearly at the end of his chain when she had finally written back. If she hadn't done so, he would have gone over to the Grangers' house, not caring whether or not her scary dad was present. 

And these last few days, when they were together again, they had been a relief. He could almost thank his former landlady for throwing him out and giving him an excuse to be with Hermione again. It had felt right to be able to see her each and every day again. If you asked him, Harry would say there weren't enough hours in the day for him to spend with her. Unfortunately, she obviously didn't feel the same way. 

Harry exhaled, feeling calmer that he had now worked out what he wanted. He could go on from here. He would apologize to her. It was her life, and he could not tell her who to associate with. All he could hope to do was convince her that she wanted to spend the rest of it with him. 

He settled back down into the couch. Starting tomorrow, he was going to do everything in his power to convince Hermione that she wanted to be with him and not any other wizard. He was going to let her know how much he cared for her, how much he needed her and . . . 

He hoped that would be enough. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Hermione tiptoed along the corridor, not wanting to wake her roommate up. It had been hard to get to sleep last night after the argument she had with Harry. But really, the boy had no reason to think that he could tell her what she could and could not do with her life. He had been so arrogant last night that she had trouble believing that it was really Harry she was fighting with. And what made it worse was the fact that she couldn't very well tell him what she thought – that he had no damn right to even be upset if she had dinner with another wizard because he had never shown the slightest interest in her. 

She breathed a sigh of relief as she finished navigating the hallway without waking Harry up. She didn't want to deal with him right now. She didn't want to have another argument with him this morning. 

Her heart leaped into her throat as she caught sight of the couch. Harry was sleeping peacefully there, and she longed to sit by his side and ruffle his hair. It was dreadfully unfair, how she could never stay angry with him. It was awful how he could get to her every single time. Perhaps that was why he always took her for granted, because there was a part of her that couldn't bear to leave his side. Hermione didn't want to wake him up, but she knew if she didn't then he'd be late to practice. _ Very well_, she thought. _ I have to face him some time. Might as well make it sooner rather than later. I'll only worry more if I put it off. _ She gently shook his shoulder. 

"Hermione?" Harry said, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?" 

"Time for you to get up," she replied. She bent over to straighten his glasses. "Did you spend all night on the couch?" 

"Yeah . . . I guess so." He sat up, yawning. "I'm sorry, Hermione." 

"You're what?" 

"I said I'm sorry. For last night. For acting like a prick." He groggily got to his feet. "Can we get some coffee? I don't think I'm making much sense here." 

Hermione bit her tongue. The boy had just apologized to her, and there was no reason to start another fight by saying that he wasn't making any sense last night, not this morning. She followed him to the kitchen, taking a seat at the table as he set about making a pot of coffee. He plopped a cup down in front of her when he was finished, before taking a long drink out of his own. 

"That's better," he said, taking a seat across from her. "I am sorry about last night . . . but think of it from my end, Hermione." Hermione looked suspiciously at him. She hated conditional apologies, where a person would apologize but not really get to the heat of the matter. 

"Please don't look at me like that," Harry said, catching her eye. "At least give me a chance to explain." 

"I'm listening." 

"I was worried last night . . . and don't you go on saying how you can take care of yourself and how I shouldn't worry. It's like . . . well, think of it this way . . . if I suddenly said that I was busy this weekend because I was going to see Pansy Parkinson, you'd—" 

"Ask if you had a lobotomy recently," Hermione said, then bit her tongue. D_amn. Maybe Harry does have a point, _she thought. 

"Exactly. It would be surprising if I did want to see her given everything that happened at Hogwarts." 

"I see what you're saying, Harry, but this is different. You haven't seen Pansy since we left school—" 

"Thank Merlin, I might add," he added. 

"Yes, I agree there. But to get back on track, I've been working with Malfoy for almost a month now. I have seen him since Hogwarts, and I know he's changed—" 

Harry held up a hand, stopping her. "I'm not going to doubt you when you say that, Hermione. It is hard for me to believe, because remember, I've not had any contact with him. Maybe you're right, and I hope you are, but I can't help worrying about you." 

"You don't have to worry, Harry." 

"You worry about me, don't you? So why can't I do the same?" 

"Because this whole big brother act is getting tiring," Hermione blurted out. _ Damn, damn, damn. I did_ not_ want to say that._

"Big brother act?" Harry laughed, almost bitterly to Hermione's ear. "I assure you, Hermione, I do not think of you as a sister." 

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked. 

"It means exactly what it seems to mean," he replied, borrowing her words from last night. "I don't think of you as a sister. " He shrugged. "Why? Do you think of me as a brother?" 

"No," she said, "I don't. At least we agree on that much." 

"I thought we agreed that I was a prat last night as well." 

"Oh, definitely." 

"So can you forgive me?" He smiled hopefully at her. 

When he asked like that, so innocent and pleading, there was very little that she would refuse him. "Okay," she said. She felt a smile tugging at her lips. It did feel good to make up with him. "And by the way, have you realized that you have about twenty minutes to get yourself over to the practice—" 

Harry leapt up, cursing, almost spilling his coffee all over himself in the process. As he ran from the kitchen, Hermione sighed. There had been a moment there, when he had said that he didn't think of her as a sister, when she thought that perhaps he might say that he loved her. _Foolish thought, that. I really should have known better._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Hermione fumbled with the lock, not quite being able to put the key in. _Maybe I've got it the wrong way, she thought. Maybe it would help if I had some light . . . of course! I'll just-- _ But before she could pull out her wand to cast _Lumos_, the door had opened. Harry was standing there, smiling at her. 

"Had a good time?" he asked. 

"Yes. But I'm starving," she said, pushing past him and making her way to the kitchen. 

"Okay. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought you had dinner with Malfoy." 

"I did. The restaurant was beautiful. It looked like an enchanted rose garden, but—" 

"But what?" 

"But the portions were too damn small. And expensive, I might add." She began searching through the fridge, looking for something to eat. "It would take several entrees to feed a small child there, and I didn't feel right ordering those, not on Malfoy's tab. Not to mention the fact that I already felt like a pig there, as all the other witches were so thin you could almost see through them." 

"It sounds like you had fun." 

"Fun?" She snorted. "It was nice, and I suppose I enjoyed the company, but . . ." She sighed. "I wouldn't call it fun. The décor was nice to look at, and the food was good, but I don't think I'd go there again. I could feel everyone staring at me." 

"See? It would have been better if you spent the evening with me. Because no one would stare at you, as they'd be too busy gawking at this damn scar." Harry tapped his famous scar. 

"Better with you? I hardly think so." She turned to look at him. "Did I ever tell you that I still get the occasional piece of hate mail from your fans?" 

"You do? Damn. Sorry about that, Hermione." 

"Why? It's not your fault." 

"I wish I could get them to stop it. Do you think a letter from me to the _Prophet _to all of them would help? Maybe a general letter asking everyone to stop pestering you about . . ." 

"No, it wouldn't help. I am sure that the editors at the _Prophet_ would edit that letter so that it'd seem as if you were soliciting more hate mail from me." 

He scowled. "I wish you weren't so right." 

"I wish I weren't so hungry. Did you cook tonight?" 

"No, I grabbed a bite to eat before coming home." 

"Damn." 

"Would you like to go out?" 

"At this time of night? I hardly think any place is open." 

"The Leaky Cauldron would be. I'm not sure what else they have left there, but there should be stew." 

Hermione pursed her lips, considering if she wanted to go out a second time that evening. She had to go to work early in the morning, and they wouldn't be back until almost midnight if they went. Then her stomach growled. She winced, hoping that it hadn't been too audible. "Sounds good to me. Let's go."   


**Author's note:** The next chapter will be up on Friday again. ^_^ I hope you enjoyed this one. If you could let me know what you think by leaving a review, I'd really appreciate that. 

And thanks to **Carolyn **(sorry for not emailing back sooner, but it's been a crazy week), **Rebeca**, **LeslieGladly, TheLaguna**, **sheepdog**, **star19**, **HarpeeLady**, **Danski**, **lucy**, **Shawn Pickett**, **Candy**, **Fatima**, **Chelsie**, **v-weasley**, **mikeus**, **MasterDeath**, **monkeychika2006**, **myman-harry526**, **Trapped in Icy Flame **(I like your username ^_^), **Daintress**, **Blood57**, **Leah6**, **Emma-Lee14**, **sally**, **avada kedavra **(for me, these chapters are long as my first ficlets were under 1000 words), **Disco Duck**, **Kage Miko**, **Mistress Desdemona **(in some ways, she's grown but as for others . . . well, you'll see), **ravenclaw's heir**, **LilyEvansPotter3**, **Padawan Learner**(I'm glad someone doesn't mind the H/Hr relationship growing slowly), **malu**, **ears91**, **Seakays** (Two people who don't mind slow! Yay!), **Cool Like Ice**, **Grace**, **brazilianfan**, **sweetheart87**, **anonymous9**, **ILUVRONWEASLEY** (your review is cute ^_^ And D/Hr is nice, but I wouldn't have expected that'd be your favorite), **TheSilverLady**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **Mage Gurl 05**, **mutsumi**, **M4x**, **Tiffie101**, **Nev/Wormtail**, **Ramy**, **becka5**, **Pinku-koneko **(thanks for all the reviews! I'm surprised you're bothering to read everything though), **Megan**, **zidane3**, **Jen **(I try to mention everyone b/c I really do appreciate all the reviews-- if someone's not there, that's because I didn't get it), and **GingerAleGoddess **(if you want to go ahead -- am blushing because you even suggested it) for their reviews of the last chapter. I am very sorry about not responding to everyone, but it's been a very busy week for me and I'd like to get this posted before I go to bed. One general thing I guess I can say is that I can promise steady updates for the next three weeks as I've the next three chapters finished -- and that the one H/Hr shipper I've run those chapters in front of seems to like them. ^_^ Thanks once again to everyone who reviewed!   



	13. Chapter Thirteen : Gift

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Thirteen : Gift**   


Harry sipped some Butterbeer as he watched Hermione start eating her stew. He hadn't ordered anything to eat, not being hungry like Hermione was and so he had settled for drinking while watching her eat. When Harry had offered to take Hermione to the Leaky Cauldron to get something, he had thought that perhaps he could use the time alone with her to ask her to do something with him this weekend. Exactly what, he did not know, but he thought it would be best to ask her before someone else did. However, now that he had his chance, he found himself unable to speak. 

That was frustrating, very frustrating. He had always been capable of speech in front of Hermione before. There were times when he didn't tell her things because he didn't want to be nagged by her or because he didn't want to worry her, but he had always had the ability to speak to her. Yet for the last ten minutes, he had sat across from her mutely, not able to contribute a single word to the conversation. Not that there was a conversation. It was kind of hard to have one when you couldn't speak. It didn't help that he thought she looked lovely and her pink lips oh-so-kissable. 

"Harry, if you really are that tired, you can go home," said Hermione. "I am perfectly capable of seeing myself back to the flat." 

"I'm not tired," he protested. 

"Is that why you've been staring at the wall this whole time?" 

Harry didn't think it would be a good idea to tell her that he was staring at the wall because he lost all ability to think whenever he looked at her. Or rather, he wasn't able to think of much else aside from kissing her when he watched her. He had been trying to think of what they could do together this weekend that she would enjoy, but he hadn't come up with a single idea. He was beginning to think that he was hopeless. 

"No response to that one?" Hermione cocked an eyebrow at him. "Or perhaps you shouldn't go home if you're that sleepy." 

"I'm not sleepy," he said. "I was merely thinking." 

"Thinking of what?" 

"Erm . . ." _Okay, saying that I was thinking of kissing her is one way to let her know that I want to spend more time with her, but I don't think I could say that. Besides, I'd like to have more privacy than that . . . who knows who or what is listening here. _The sound of Hermione's laughter roused him from his thoughts. 

"Really, you are adorable when you're tired and trying to think." She blushed after she said that, and Harry's hopes mounted. "But you didn't have to wait up for me," she said, trying to recover her equilibrium. 

"I know. I wanted to. Just to make sure that you're fine, you know." 

"I know. Still suspicious of Malfoy, I see." 

"It's kind of hard not to. Have you told Ron about . . . ?" 

"No, not yet." Hermione put down her spoon and reached for her mug of Butterbeer. After taking a sip from that, she continued, "Something tells me he won't be happy to hear that I've spent any time outside of work with Malfoy. Your reaction was bad enough . . . it makes me worry about his." 

"I'm sorry," he said. He wished that he had been more restrained back then, but it had been such a shock. 

"You don't have to say that. I can understand why it would be . . . well, I can understand your reaction. And I can understand why Ron would be upset, but . . . sometimes he's not actually listening to the words you are saying when he's mad at you." 

"Isn't that the truth?" Harry took a swig from his mug. "You know, why don't we all go out somewhere on Saturday? And maybe you'll find some way to tell him." That wasn't what Harry had hoped to ask her to do, but it was better than nothing. Besides, he was dying to know what Ron thought about this whole Malfoy fiasco, but he didn't think that it was right for him to tell Ron without Hermione's permission. Even worse, he was sure that Hermione would be angry with them both if he did.   


"Where to?" she asked. 

"I was going to say Hogsmeade . . ." 

"No, not Hogsmeade. Too close to Hogwarts and all those memories." 

Harry thought about where they could go. _Romantic might be a good idea . . . if I can get Ron to leave us alone at times. From some of the things he's said before, I think he might agree to do that. _"Paris?" he suggested. "We could spend the weekend there." 

"I want to relax on the weekend, Harry, not get a gigantic headache. Paris is too busy for a short trip away. And it stinks like nothing else." She shuddered. "Though the idea is good . . . some place further away that we haven't been before. That would be nice." She tapped her spoon against her bowl, clearly thinking about the matter. "How about Nice? I'd like to visit there again." 

"But you've been there before," Harry pointed out. "I thought you said you'd like to go somewhere that none of us have been." 

"Well, for a weekend away, I suppose that's a bit unrealistic. As my parents always did like to travel during the summer holidays. Besides, I've only spent a day there as we were just passing through. That hardly counts." 

"That sounds good to me," said Harry. Inwardly, he exulted. No matter how many times Hermione insisted she only went with the ferret to be polite, he thought that Malfoy might have an agenda all of his own. Why Malfoy would be suddenly interested in Hermione, Harry didn't know. What he did know was that he had taken her for granted before and he was not ever going to make that mistake again. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

There were times when Hermione felt like she was leading two lives. One life when she was with Harry and another when she was without. 

Over the past few weeks, Harry had clung to her side, as much as possible. He was always asking her to do something with him, and she was never able to refuse him. Hermione didn't know why she couldn't turn him down on her own. Maybe it was those times she had caught him staring at her that inspired some sort of hope within her. Or perhaps it was the fact that it was very hard for her to let go of what she felt for him, no matter how many times she reprimanded herself or told herself that it was an impossible dream. 

Hermione found herself accepting invitations from Malfoy not because she really wanted to spend time with him, but rather so she would have a legitimate excuse for turning Harry down. It was sad. It was pathetic the way she needed an excuse to refuse Harry. Yet, Hermione knew that without one, he would be able to chip away at her resolve such that she would wind up going with him any way. And more time with Harry was not good for her health. 

However, she had to give him credit. It had helped, during that trip to France, to have him with her when she casually mentioned to Ron that she had went out to dinner with Malfoy. Ron had completely lost it, stridently demanding about whether she had lost her mind and snarling whenever he mentioned Malfoy, although that was never by name. Harry had watched Ron's explosion, and when he had thought it had gone far enough, he had pulled Ron aside to talk to him. Hermione didn't know what Harry had said, but it had worked. Ron had come back and apologized, before changing the subject. Hermione had been all too willing to let him bring up another topic. She had thought herself that she wouldn't go anywhere else with Malfoy, given how uncomfortable that night had been for her. Unfortunately, things didn't turn out that way. 

What made the situation worse was that although Hermione did not have any romantic thoughts towards Malfoy, she couldn't say the same of him. There was a certain softness to him when they were alone, a certain way he would look at her and say her name. It was very uncomfortable. Hermione felt that she should say something to him about it, but she didn't know how to. She had never been in this situation before. She had never suspected someone fancying her when she was not the slightest bit interested in that person. Frankly, Hermione did not know what Malfoy was thinking – they were too different to ever get along like that. She felt guilty for always saying yes to him, as that only encouraged him, but she needed him if only for the excuses he gave her. 

Of course, there was a certain satisfaction to telling Harry no and having a prior engagement to back her up. It made her grin to think of his shock that first time. Hermione sometimes wondered if that was where she had went wrong for all those years. Her time was precious, but she always made room for him even though he didn't do the same. Maybe she had allowed him to take her for granted for so long that he assumed she would always be there for him. Maybe if she hadn't let that go on like she did, he would have woken up to the facts and realized that he loved her and couldn't live without her. 

But she doubted that. It was a nice thought to think there might be something in her that could attract him, but . . . well, it was only a thought. She thought it more likely that he wouldn't have ever noticed that she was gone and her heart would have been broken anyway. So she settled for watching the light in his eyes dim each time she told him that she had other plans, for asserting her independence with refusal, and for trying to gather the remains of her heart so that one day it might be whole again. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Ron winced as the Bludger almost hit Harry, then shouted at the lazy Beaters who would do a better job if they weren't on the field because then at least Harry wouldn't expect any sort of protection. Fred and George were beside him, being more descriptive in what they thought of those Beaters' ability. 

If Ron wasn't so worried, he'd stop to take notes. Surely those insults would come in handy once Hermione came to her senses and told Malfoy to take a walk. Ron was gleefully awaiting that day. Though as of the moment, he would settle for Hermione's arrival. He frowned. He did not know what was wrong with that girl. She had promised Harry again and again that she would be here, but she wasn't. Harry had looked so disappointed when he had come out and didn't see her in the seat that he had got for her. Ron simply hoped that it was because Hermione was working late and not due to anything else. Though it wouldn't be like Hermione to forget about the match – she never had done something like that before. He crossed his fingers, willing Hermione to come soon. There had already been quite a battle over that empty seat earlier and as the match wore on, only more people would try to take it over. 

A flash of bushy brown hair caught his eye, and he peered down the stands. He thought there might be a witch that looked like Hermione trying to make her way up. He squinted, not wanting to leave his seat if it was a false alarm but wanting to help Hermione if she was having problems pushing her way through this mad throng. 

"Fred! George! Save my seat, will you?" Ron decided to take a chance that it was Hermione. Seeing George nod his agreement, Ron walked down the stands, taking the steps two at a time. About halfway down, he saw that the witch was Hermione, and he quickened his pace. Reaching her side, he said, "Having trouble finding the place, Hermione?" 

She rolled her eyes. "I had to work late. Then the idiots at the front gate gave me a hard time when I tried to get in. I've spent the last thirty minutes arguing that the ticket was real and not some fake that I've made just to get in here. Honestly! They didn't even check to see that it had the right verification charms on it!" 

Ron grinned. He felt better knowing that Hermione had done her best to get here on time, and that it wasn't entirely her fault that she was late. "Did you happen to get the names of those guards?" he asked. 

"Yes. I'm planning to complain about them later." 

"Don't bother. It'd be simpler and easier to let Harry go at them for keeping you away from the match like that." He took Hermione's hand and began to press his way back to their seats. 

"Oh, I don't think that Harry would want to make such a spectacle of himself." 

"I doubt that. Besides, even if Harry doesn't, his teammates will. They wouldn't want it to be one of the friends next time that gets hassled like that. Oh hell," Ron cursed as he saw the twins valiantly defending their empty seats. "We better hurry." Hermione nodded, and they rushed back up the stairs, not caring whose foot they happened to step on in their hurry. Once at their row, they sat down in the seats, with Ron turning around to sneer at those who would have taken them. 

"You took your time," Fred said. 

"Could've hurried a bit more and saved your chatter for later," George added. 

"Sorry, sorry," said Ron. "I forgot how mad some Quidditch fans can get over empty seats." 

"You say that as if you're not the same," Hermione remarked. She leaned forward in her seat, clutching the railing, trying to discern where Harry was. "Harry! Watch out!" she cried as she spotted him in the path of a Bludger. His head whipped around, as if he had heard her. From the corner of his eye, Ron could see George putting away his wand, after casting Sonorus on Hermione so that she could be heard by Harry over the din. Hermione buried her face in her hands, too scared to watch as Harry darted away from the Bludger. 

The match was over in under ten minutes. 

The four of them made their way downstairs to wait outside the locker room for Harry to come out. Ron spotted one guard looking sheepishly away from them and wondered if he had been one of those that had kept Hermione away. He wondered if the guard had noticed how quickly Harry had caught the Snitch after Hermione had been let through. If he had and if rumors spread about that . . . Ron suspected that Hermione would not need to show a pass to another game ever again. 

As soon as Harry appeared, Hermione leapt up to hug him "You were wonderful!" she said. "And I'm sorry for being late . . . I was running late from work to begin with, and then some idiot guards who had nothing better to do insisted that my ticket was a fake . . ." 

"Who?" asked Harry, as he ducked out of her embrace to take her hand. The two of them walked towards Ron and his brother, and Ron could feel a smile tugging at his lips. His friends looked good together. 

"Does it matter? I'll put in a complaint about them later. Don't you want to celebrate right now?" 

"Actually, going home and taking a long soak sounds splendid." 

"Not surprising, that," put in Fred. 

"You must be bruised all over. I tell you, there were times when we wished we'd brought our brooms so we could show your Beaters how the job's done," said George. 

"That would have been lovely," Harry said. "I can't tell you how many times I wished you two were our Beaters instead." 

"If it was that bad, then I'm almost glad that I was late." 

"Why almost?" Harry asked her. 

"I did promise you I'll be there. And if I make a promise, I want to keep it . . . no matter how painful it might be to watch." 

"If you think it's painful to watch, you should try it on Harry's end," Fred said. 

Hermione winced. "I know, I know. Shall we all go back home?" she asked. "You can have your soak while the rest of us figure out what to order out." 

"Order out?" Harry pretended to be affronted. "You mean you're not going to cook to celebrate our victory." 

"Do any of you want me to?" 

"No," they all chorused, having all been subjected to Hermione's cooking at one time or another. 

"I thought so," she said smugly. She poked Harry sharply, causing him to grimace. "And stop teasing me! I'll let it go next time, but I won't promise to restrain myself the next." 

"Me? Tease—" Harry was stopped mid-sentence by Hermione elbowing his stomach. "Ouch. Did I mention I was bruised?" 

"Yes. Why do you think I—" 

"You can be extraordinarily cruel when it suits you, Hermione," he accused her. 

"You can be extraordinarily stubborn when it suits you," she replied. "Now come on. Enough teasing. The sooner we get home, the sooner you can rest and . . ." 

"Enough said. I'm convinced," said Harry. "Are the rest of you coming as well?" 

"Of course!" 

"We can't let your victory go without it being celebrated!" 

"Which means that if you're not going to drink anything," said Ron, "then the twins will be more than happy to make up your share for you." 

"You got that right," Fred declared. 

"It would be our solemn duty," George added. 

"Then stop talking and start walking," Hermione said. "We're never going to get anywhere if you keep standing still." 

"I think she has a point." Still holding on to Hermione's hand, Harry walked forward, leading them all out of the stadium. 

**Author's notes:** Chapter fourteen will be up next Friday. I hope you enjoyed this one and I'd be grateful if you could leave me a review. Thanks! 

Also, thanks to all those who left reviews for chapter twelve. As promised here are my responses. 

**Izabel: **Yeah, they do both have their points, don't they? Good thing that they were both willing to hear the other side, or I might have wound up dragging this out for a few more chapters. ^_^   
**vanessa:** I thought updating once a week was pretty fast. It's much better than my old rate, which was once a month if I was lucky. Hope you like this chapter.   
**avada kedavra: **Thanks for understanding. I know slow-burning romance can be frustrating at time, but I think that's how it goes when one side doesn't want to admit their feelings to the other.   
**rokjai:** Thanks! I'm glad you like the flow of the fic.   
**Carl: **If you want'em, email me. And you'd better do it before the world ends. :P   
**Korine: **See above.   
**alatoic01: **Their relationship has already advanced by Harry coming to his senses. Thanks for the review.   
**athipsou: **Glad to hear you think it's realistic. ^_^   
**Disco Duck:** I can't promise soon, but I hope you liked this chapter.   
**2green2Bseen: **I think I've already written that fic. And I'm still trying to live it down.   
**Seakays: **Thanks for the compliments!   
**megan:** There actually isn't that many chapters left to this fic. I don't see myself writing beyond twenty chapters at the very most.   


I know there's more, but I'm emailing everyone else so this doesn't get too long. Thanks to **Fatima**, **Emma-Lee14**, **LeslieGlady**, **Shawn Pickett**, **Animagus-Steph**, **sinta1**, **Pinku-koneko**, **ears91**, **kyc639**, **LilyEvansPotter3**, **TheSilverLady**, **sally**, **ILUVRONWEASLEY**, **Leah6**, **tOmLoVeR17**, **Natalie314159**, **insanehpluver**, **ravenclaw's heir**, **Blood57**, **malu**, **Nev/Wormtail**, **xxbabysparklesxx**, **sweetheart87**, **melissa**, **TheWraith1**, **Harpee**-**Lady**, **foxxglove**, **Wytil**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **Megan**, **Ramy**, **pangs1**, **Millie*A**, and **hpfanmelissa **for their reviews. You should be getting an email from me shortly.   
  



	14. Chapter Fourteen : Depend

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Fourteen : Depend**   
  


There were times when Ron wanted to shake both his friends violently. Maybe that would make them come to their senses. If it wasn't one, then it was the other. It was getting ridiculous the way they danced around each other. Right now, he was more peeved at Hermione than at Harry as he sat and listened to Harry babble about what he could do for Hermione's birthday. The only good thing about Hermione agreeing to that dinner with Malfoy was that it seemed to be a wake-up call for Harry. The bad thing was that Hermione didn't stop with that one dinner and continued to see Malfoy. It was enough to make Ron scream. How could two people who were so intelligent be so stupid when it came to getting together like they both wanted to? 

Another thing that irritated him about Hermione was the fact that she never did anything. She never acted on her feelings. She never did anything to find out whether Harry felt the same way as her. The only thing she ever did, that Ron noticed, was to deny the fact that she felt more for him than mere friendship. That made no sense to him. If you fancied someone, you should do something about that before it was too late. It was even more infuriating that she didn't seem to appreciate everything Harry was doing on the matter. If he didn't know better, he would say that she enjoyed turning Harry down to do things with Malfoy. He wondered if that was a trait common to all witches – to keep wizards guessing on how they feel and relish when they were able to play hard to get. 

It was almost enough to make a wizard swear off witches entirely. 

"So what do you think?" asked Harry, finally ending his monologue. Ron had lost track of how long Harry had been going on about Hermione, but the last time he checked, it had been over half an hour. 

"I think it's a brilliant plan," he said, though if truth be told, he couldn't recall what Harry had said. "I can't see how it could fail." 

"Ron, I asked if it would be better to see the opera or the ballet." 

_Oops. Should've paid more attention, I guess_, he thought. "Oh. Right. I knew that, mate. I was simply saying that I think it's a brilliant plan over all. This is sure to be her favorite birthday ever." 

"You weren't listening, were you?" 

"I was, I was. To the important bits in any case." 

"It was all important!" 

"Yes, yes." On the other hand, there was a single bright spot to Hermione's approach. He didn't have to listen to her go on for hours on end about everything she liked best about Harry, which of course would turn out to be everything. Ron had been through enough of such speeches from Harry and his siblings to know that. In general, he didn't mind listening so much so long as he didn't actually have to pay attention to every single word said. It would be silly to expect him to be able to recite everything back, but unfortunately, people seemed to look upon that as the only concrete proof that he had been listening in the first place. Ron resented that. He always did listen. To the important parts, such as who the person liked. 

"So any opinion on the subject? Or do I have tell you all about it again?" 

"No, not necessary. I'm a good listener, Harry." 

"Not as good as Hermione." 

Ron fought to urge to groan. _Of course, I'm not as good as Hermione at listening or anything else if it's up to you because you're in love with her. Hard to compete with that_, he mentally scolded Harry. It was too bad he couldn't tell Harry what he really thought, but he knew Harry didn't need to hear it. Ron owed it to Harry to be understanding as Harry had put up with listening to Ron go on about his crushes. Ron knew from experience that the last thing a wizard in love needed to hear was that he was acting like a fool. 

If you thought about it, acting like a fool was part and parcel of being in love. Or in lust, as was more often the case. 

"I know, but it's hard for a chap to compete with Hermione when it comes to being good at listening," said Ron. "So—" 

"Not that Hermione's been spending all that much time with me lately, and whenever I try to ask her out, she seems to change the subject. It's as if she doesn't want to hear me out. Do you think she hates me?" 

"No, Harry. I'm pretty sure it's the opposite," said Ron. _How many times have I said that in the last couple weeks? If I had a knut every time I did, I'd be rich._

"What makes you so sure? You haven't seen her, Ron. I know she doesn't want me . . . sometimes I wonder why I even try." Harry seemed to shrink as he contemplated how Hermione felt for him. "I guess I should be happy that she hasn't kicked me to the curb yet." 

"Don't say that, mate. And would you listen to me? I've known the two of you longer than anyone, and I know she fancies you. It doesn't matter that you don't think so. Love is blind and all that rot, so it's hard for you to see it." Harry nodded at Ron's words, looking vaguely reassured. 

Ron suppressed the urge to go hunt down Hermione and then lock her in a room alone with Harry until he heard them snogging. _ I would do that to, except I know Hermione would set herself to getting out of the room instead of paying attention to Harry. That would make him feel even worse. _Ron sighed. He couldn't blame Harry for feeling depressed about the whole matter. It was hard to keep up your spirits when all your efforts went unacknowledged. 

"So have you told her out right that you fancy her and would like to date her?" he asked. 

"No. I told you, Ron, that she doesn't seem to want to hear it and she always changes the subject—" 

"That's because you let her change the subject. You need to learn how to take charge of a conversation, mate. It would really help." Ron rubbed his hands together, trying to think of what he could do to get them together for both their sakes. "You ought to blurt it out. In the middle of a regular conversation. Then it'd be hanging out there, where she couldn't very well ignore it." 

"And what if she did?" 

"She wouldn't." 

"I don't know about that." Ron didn't think that it was possible, but Harry managed to slump down even more. Harry did have it bad, and Hermione wasn't making things any easier on him. That only made Ron feel more frustrated. 

"Fine, fine. Then let's go back to the subject of her birthday. It's only a week away," said Ron. "You have nothing planned, right?" 

"Right." 

"Good." Ron tapped the table with his fingers as he organized his thoughts. "Leave the rest of our friends to me. I'll take care of them so you don't have to worry about any parties for her—" 

"Hermione wouldn't want a party anyway. She's not a big fan of them." 

"I know. That makes my job easier. So like I said, leave everyone else to me and you'll get your alone time. I'll tell her that I have inventory again or something like that." Ron frowned. He didn't like the idea he had just had, but unfortunately, it was a good one. "I'll nip over to Hermione's parents' house during the week and try to talk to her mum to see what's her favorite restaurant. Once we know that, we can get a reservation there." 

"That's an excellent idea," said Harry. "Meanwhile, I can see about getting tickets to an opera or ballet—" 

"Or both if you can swing it. The more money you spend, the harder it'd be for her to refuse you." 

Harry nodded eagerly. "Both then, if it's possible. Maybe one on Friday, and then one on her actual birthday? As I doubt she'd want to go to both on the same day." 

"Yeah, that sounds good." Ron clapped Harry on the back. "See? It's not that hard to plan for her birthday. You only had to stop worrying about what she'd like best." 

"I . . . I don't know how to put this, but sometimes, it seems as if she's happy to turn me down when I ask her to go out to dinner with me. It's . . . well, it makes me worry that I'm suggesting restaurants she doesn't like or . . ." 

Ron frowned. That worried him. He had been as mad as hell when he heard what had driven Hermione out of the original flat she had shared with Harry. That had been so bloody insensitive of him – and to think that people thought Ron was the more insensitive one. Ron had felt like cheering Hermione on for not accepting Harry's apology right away, especially after Ron had to listen to Harry go on about how Harry didn't understand why Hermione would be upset at him. But over time, he had thought she had taken it too far. She hadn't done anything to get Harry to be hers, so she didn't have a legitimate reason to be raging mad at him for finding someone else. Not that it made what Harry did all right, not by a long shot, but he would have thought that it would push her into action. Yet, the exact opposite seemed to have happened. She seemed to be reacting to his fling by looking to have one of her own. And that was perhaps the most awful idea he had had the entire day. 

Ron hoped Harry was wrong. He hoped that Hermione didn't enjoy refusing Harry. Because that would be incredibly stupid, to enjoy hurting someone simply because they'd hurt you in the past. The Hermione he knew would have more sense than that. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Harry paced the floor of the living room, waiting for Hermione's return. He had everything ready for her. The plan hadn't gone off perfectly, but he had been able to compensate. Ron was unable to talk to Hermione's mum, by reason of the fact that her dad answered the door. Whatever was said then, it must have been downright horrible, as Ron refused to speak of it. However, Harry had decided that instead of taking Hermione out to a fancy restaurant, he'd make her dinner. 

That had to score him points in the romance department. 

Harry had gone so far as to ask Angelina, Fred's girlfriend, to give him pointers on how he could decorate the flat for the evening. He was glad that he did so as evidently there was more to making a dinner romantic than simply cooking the food and lighting a pair of candlesticks. 

He stopped in his tracks when he heard the front door creak open. Hermione came in, looking lovely as usual, if somewhat tired. "Long day at work?" he heard himself asking. 

"Isn't it always?" she replied. She crossed the room and sank down into the couch. "I don't feel like moving for the rest of the night." 

"Have you eaten yet?" She shook her head no. "There's some soup that I made earlier. If you'd like, I could bring you a bowl." 

"If you could add a cup of tea, that would be perfect," she said. 

"Done." Harry ambled towards the kitchen, taking his time. He doubted that Hermione was in any rush, and he needed the time to think of how to approach the whole subject of her birthday. Not being able to think of any suave way to bring it up, he settled on the direct approach as the tea kettle started to whistle. He grabbed a bowl to fill with soup while the tea leaves brewed. When everything was finished, he piled it onto a tray and made his way back to the living room. 

"Here you go," said Harry, placing the tray on the table in front of Hermione. 

"Thank you." She sat up and placed the tray on her lap. "Have I ever told you how much I love living with someone who can cook?" 

"No, you haven't." Harry turned red, feeling shaken from the way she threw about the word 'love.' He had to keep telling himself that she didn't mean it the way he wanted her to mean it . . . yet. He took a deep breath and said, "About Saturday . . ." 

"Yes," said Hermione, looking up. "What about it?" 

"It's your birthday and—" 

"I know," she said with a smile. "I'm surprised every year when it comes around again. You think I'd be used to it by now." 

"Yeah," he said, smiling uncertainly. "I . . . well, I managed to get a pair of tickets so we could see _La Boheme _on Saturday. I don't have anything planned for dinner, but I thought maybe I could make it for us?" Hermione remained silent, leading Harry to babble on. "Is that fine? If it's not, if you can tell me where you'd rather go, let me know and I'll get us reservations." Harry suddenly remembered that he was supposed to make an excuse for Ron. "And it'd be only us because Ron says that he has to deal with inventory again and—" 

"Harry," she interrupted him. She returned the tray to the table and clasped her hands together, as if she were nervous. "I appreciate you doing this for me, really I do. But I . . . well, there's no good way to say this. I've already agreed to go out to dinner with Malfoy." 

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath. "You have plans already?" he asked. 

"Yes, I do. I'm awfully sorry about this. If you had let me know that you were—" 

"Hermione, it's your birthday. I have to let you know that I'm planning to do something for it?" He could feel his chest tighten as he grew angry, angry at how she never had any time for him but always had time for that bastard. "I thought that as smart as you are you'd be able to figure out that your friends would want to spend it with you." 

"We never made a big deal of it before," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Yes, there'd be gifts and you'd acknowledged it, but we never really celebrated it." 

"If I remember correctly, that was only because your birthday was during the school year and you would rather study rather than spend time with your friends celebrating." 

"Yes, but you see . .. we never did anything. Anything at all. I'm not complaining as I didn't mind – and I don't mind now – but you can see why I'd not expect anything. A little advance warning would have been nice," she told him. 

"I didn't tell you before because I wasn't sure if I could get any tickets. I didn't have any luck with any other show, and I was lucky to get these." Harry clenched his fists, trying to rein in his resentment. It would not do to let everyone know they were arguing by him shouting at her. " Besides, that brings us back to the fact that you should have known that your best friends would want to do something with you. But no! You prefer to keep company with a ferret!" 

"Harry!" Hermione stood up, matching him glare for glare. "You're being a gigantic prat right now! What right have you to assume that I'll make time for you? I'm not going to sit around waiting for you to notice me and ask if I want to do anything for my birthday. All you had to do was to let me know to keep my weekend free so we could spend some time together. But you can't even give me that courtesy." 

"I shouldn't have to say anything! It should be bloody obvious!" 

"It's bloody obvious to me that you think you have some sort of prior claim on me. That's not the case, Harry. If you want to do something with me, I'd advise you to not make plans until you've asked." 

"I can't believe this. This is fucking unbelievable!" 

"What? That I'd have a life that doesn't include you?" 

Harry stood stock still. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, though he thought it had been ripped out of it by Hermione a second earlier. It hurt, what she had said, and . . . he didn't want to think about this any longer. "I hope you enjoy yourself," he snarled as he stomped off to his room. He slammed his door shut, before crawling in to the bed. That hadn't gone well. 

In fact, you could say it was a complete disaster.   
  


**Author's note:** The next chapter will be up on Friday once again. I hope everyone has enjoyed this one. I'd be very grateful if you could let me know what you think by leaving a review. 

Also, thanks to everyone who left a review for the last chapter. **Shawn Pickett, Rebeca, cmt0125**, **Carolyn**, **bamaslamma29**, **Star19**, **Mikeus**, **abbeysroad**, **malu**, **Animagus-Steph **(it's been fixed, and I must C&P more carefully. Sorry about that) , **ILUVRONWEASLEY **(I so get your reasoning there. ^_~ ), **Star-Angel23** (yes, they do give in to their fears too often . . . silly H/Hr), **Megan**, **Fire-bound Heart**, **korine**, **Devinj2000**, **sinta1**, **Pinku-koneko** (alas, this one was not fluffy), **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **Tiffie101**, **vanessa**, **avada kedavra**, **minute majesty **(thanks! D/Hr is a great ship to read to contrast with H/Hr), **Emma-Lee14**, **ears91**, **Megan **(another one! ^_^), **Jen**, **Crinos-X**, **wildchild8**, **sally**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **TheWraith1**, **spacey-me90**, **Leslie-Glady**, **Disco Duck**, **TheSilverLady**, **monkeychika2006**, **Elizabeth M. Potter** (Thanks! And I've not forgotten that fiancee story either. ^_~) , **Hplover**, **Ramy**, **tOmLoVeR17**, **athipsou**, **Sam8**, **Blood57** (gah! I thought you left one since you left a signed review -- sorry about that), **ravenclaw's heir** (writing a chapter a week is hard enough as it is, especially given that I'm writing two other things as well. Though I do hope people prefer smaller updates more often than a large update once a month), **Fatima**, **x0x0gLaSsHeArTx0x0**, **Melissa**, **Psy_Girl** (Ron has his hands full already. He doesn't have time to pursue his own witch, and Luna is still in school anyway), **Nimue**, **Harpee-Lady **(that'll be answered in the next three chapters), **Chibster 088**, **hpfanmelissa**, **Daintress**, and **Aurora Rehona**, I really enjoyed reading all of your comments. Thanks!   



	15. Chapter Fifteen : Dearest

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Fifteen : Dearest**   


Hermione nibbled half-heartedly at her salad that next afternoon. There was no time for her to take lunch so she had it delivered so she could eat and work at the same time. 

She hated fighting with Harry. It always made her feel awful, as if she was most selfish, most childish person in the world to be picking a fight with him. But she couldn't stand it last night, the way he assumed she would be on call for him, birthday or no. It wasn't that much for him to ask her about doing something that weekend ahead of time. He knew when her birthday was. He had plenty of time to plan something and tell her about it. Hermione had been hurt that he had never said anything, and when Malfoy offered to take her out to dinner, she had leapt at the chance. It had come as a surprise last night when Harry suddenly told her that he had made plans for them to spend the weekend together. 

She still kind of got upset when she thought of how he had taken her for granted again. Yet, when morning came, she had felt calmer and willing to admit that maybe he had a point. She probably should have known that he was going to make plans at the last minute, as that was what boys tended to do. It would have been nice if he would have dropped her some sort of a hint, but she was willing to meet him halfway. Hermione had knocked on his door that morning, but had received no response. When she had opened it, she found his room empty. He had already left for the day. 

That hadn't been a very good start for her day. It had only gone downhill from there, and presently it looked as if she would have to stay a couple hours this evening, even though she didn't bother to take her lunch. 

The door slamming open alerted her to the presence of Ron. He stamped into the small office that she shared with Malfoy and over to her co-worker's desk. "Leave. Now," he said, glaring at the other wizard. 

"Last time I checked," Malfoy drawled, "this was my office. If anyone is going to leave, it'll be you, Weasel." 

"You seem to be under the false impression that I'm giving you a choice. I'm not. Leave or else." 

"Or else what?" Malfoy rose from his seat, his hand reaching for his wand. 

"That's enough," Hermione said. "Malfoy, would you please let me have a few minutes to talk to Ron?" 

"Good ahead. Talk." 

"I'm not going to talk in front of you," Ron said scathingly. 

"Have it your way then," said Malfoy as he settled back into his chair. 

"Why you little—" 

"Ron, stop that. Malfoy, could you please leave so I can talk to Ron alone?" She glanced at Ron, but he was ignoring her. "I'd rather you not watch this." For one long minute, Hermione thought he was going to refuse and that she'd have to break up a fight between Ron and Malfoy. Finally, Malfoy got up from his seat again and gathered his things. 

"I'll leave because you asked me, Hermione," he told them. "And not for any other reason." 

"Thank you," she said, heaving a sigh of relief. Today had been bad enough already without her office being the scene of a magical duel. After Malfoy had left, Ron began pacing about in the small room, never making eye contact with Hermione. She sat down and waited for him to say something. 

Just when she was about to interrupt his pacing to see if he had any reason to be there, he stopped in front of her desk, looking at the wall behind her. "I had a chat with Harry earlier today," he said. 

Hermione nodded. She knew what this was going to be about. She had suspected that all along. 

"Seems that he was looking to get rid of a pair of tickets he had bought the other day," Ron continued, "as someone didn't want to go with him." His gaze centered on Hermione, and she could see the fury surging within his eyes. "I can't believe you told him no, after all the time and effort he had spent in planning the perfect birthday for you." 

"I don't suppose Harry told you that I had already made plans?" she asked. 

"Actually he didn't but I didn't credit it then. Surely, the Hermione we know and love wouldn't toss over one of her oldest friends to spend time with a ferret. Especially not with a ferret who insulted her and did his best to make her life miserable all seven years that she was at Hogwarts." 

"Normally, I wouldn't, but Malfoy asked first. Girls like to be asked, you know." 

"You can drop the act, Hermione. If you're going out with Malfoy instead of Harry, then I can bloody well tell that you're on a first name basis. Or have you thought up of a sickly cute nickname for him already?" 

"You've gone mad. I'm not on a first name basis with him, and I don't think I ever will be. I simply appreciate being asked to go out once in a while, instead of you and Harry assuming that I'll always be there for you." 

"Last time I checked, friends spent time with friends on their birthdays," he said through gritted teeth. 

"I never said I wouldn't spend any time with the two of you then. Just that I had plans for the evening." She shrugged her shoulders. "We can do something in the morning. But oh . . . that's right, you're busy with inventory. Too bad." 

Ron shook with anger, and for a moment, Hermione wondered if she would have to break out her wand. He took a gulp of air and started pacing again. "You know, when this mess first started, back when Harry slept with that witch, I took your side. I was incensed that Harry could be so damned insensitive. I wanted to choke him for being so blind to you, for doing that to you." He turned to glare at her. "But at this moment, the person I'm mad at is you." 

"Really? I couldn't tell," she replied, her voice thick with sarcasm. "I thought you barging into my office and demanding that Malfoy leave was your way of trying to cheer me up." 

"Fuck it, Hermione." He slammed a fist into her desk, causing her to jump. "Hasn't this gone far enough? Don't you think you've made your point already? What more do you want from Harry? What does he have to do to get you to forgive him?" 

"I've already forgiven him for that." She tossed her head. "I forgave him for that a long time ago." 

"Okay, maybe you did. But you haven't forgotten, have you? And there's a part of you that enjoys turning him down, isn't there?" Hermione didn't say a thing, knowing that Ron wouldn't believe her if she told him that wasn't the case – and with good reason, for that would have been a lie. "Good," he continued when she didn't respond. "At least, you're not lying about that. Are you going to deny that you fancy Harry?" 

"I do not—" 

"I see that you are. Fine. This is how I see it." He leaned over her desk, his glare pinning her to her seat. "You're in love with Harry though you're too stubborn to admit it. You've been in love with Harry but you've not done a damn thing. You've just sat and pined and watched him as he went out with other girls. After we leave Hogwarts, you abruptly move in with him, not telling anyone why, but it's really because you miss him too much." Hermione bit her tongue. She had almost interrupted Ron to protest that she had moved in because Harry needed her and for no other reason. 

"But I've forgotten something," he went on. "You do give a reason. You say that he needs you. I'm willing to agree with that sentiment. He does need you. He needed you then, though he didn't know it. He was happier when he was with you. You were happier when the two of you were together. Then one day, he had to go and sleep with another witch. And that made you mad. Oh, you say that you've forgiven him, and you've made some effort. But not really. Because that hurt. It hurt to come home that evening and here him shagging another witch." 

Ron pulled away from the desk, his breath even as he appeared to have calmed down. "I can see why that would've hurt. I can understand why you'd be furious. Not that you'd have any reason to keep a grudge because you never told him how he felt for you. But you're upset and you move out . . . and when you do, that's when he realizes how much he needs you, how much he loves you. So he goes about trying to win you back. He knows he fucked up big time. He does everything he can think of to get you to give him a chance. But there's nothing he can do, nothing he can do to make you happy, because all of a sudden, you feel like being a bitch." 

"What did you just say?" Hermione asked in icy tones. 

"You heard me right the first time. You're being a bitch about this. You're not willing to give him a chance to prove that he loves you. At the same time, you're not willing to let him go. You lead him on, agreeing to go with him at times, while telling him now and laughing at others." 

"I am not leading him on," Hermione said. "How dare you say that? I thought friends spent time with friends." 

"They do. But the two of you haven't been simply friends for a long time. I've said my piece though." Ron turned to walk out of the room. "If you want to prove me wrong, if you want to show me that you've not been leading him on, then set him free. Tell him that you have no feelings for him and that you don't want him as anything other than a friend. It's better than what you're doing now. And if you say that, the fool will forgive you for lying, say it's all right, and try to move on because he loves you. But you'll be the bigger fool if you do." He strolled out, leaving Hermione alone by herself. 

His words sat with her the rest of afternoon. His accusations hung in the air, and she had trouble concentrating. Before she knew it, she was left alone in the office, with everyone else having gone home for the day. Hermione tried to do her work, knowing that she had a deadline next week but it was no good. She was too worked up about what Ron had said. Finally, at nine, she gave up and made her way back home. 

She trudged along the pavement, thinking of the points Ron had brought up. He was right about her having not forgotten what Harry had done. She could forgive him, but not forget how much he had hurt her, even though he probably never had an inkling of her pain. That had only made her angrier . . . and it had satisfied her to see him hurt whenever she turned him down. 

She didn't think that she ever led him on, however. She hadn't thought that Harry had been trying to court her . . . but that was wrong. She had thought that a couple of times, but had always pushed that thought aside, knowing he couldn't be interested in her because he never had been before.. 

If he did . . . if he did fancy her, if he did feel something more than friendship for her . . . then she had been a bitch, just like Ron said. Hermione sighed. It was never easy admitting that you've been wrong and that was doubly true for her. Yet, if he did fancy her, then that would be incredible. Because she loved him, despite everything that had happened between them in the few short months since they had left Hogwarts. If he did, she had to give him a chance, because to do otherwise would be to deny herself a chance at happiness. 

Even Hermione Granger wasn't that big of a fool. 

When she got home, she found the flat dark. She flipped on some lights and walked towards the kitchen, hoping she would find Harry there. She had to talk to him, to apologize, to let him know that she changed her mind and she wanted to spend all of the weekend with him, if he was still wanted to do the same. The kitchen, however, was empty, with only a lukewarm pizza box on the table. She moved on to the living room, only to find it devoid of life as well. 

That meant he had to be in his room. 

Hermione softly knocked on his door. "Harry? Are you there?" she asked. She didn't receive a response. She tried knocking louder. "Harry? I'd really like to talk to you." When no reply came, she opened the door and stepped in. As her eyes adjusted to the dark of the room, she saw that Harry was on his bed, his knees pulled against his chest. Two glittering emeralds sparkled at her as she stared at him. 

"I don't recall saying you could come in," he said bitterly. 

Hermione bit her lip. She deserved that. She wasn't going to fight with him, not when she had come to apologize. "I know. I just . . . we really need to talk, Harry." 

"Let me guess. You want to kick me out?" 

"No, no." She waved her hands frantically in front of her, appalled at the suggestion. "Never that, Harry. I wanted to talk . . . and to apologize." 

"Okay. Apology accepted. Feel free leave now." 

Hermione closed her eyes. He wasn't going to make this easy on her. Though she supposed she had done little to merit him going easy on her now. "I'm not finished yet." She walked forward and sat at the edge of the bed. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry about last night. I was wrong. I should've expected you to do something for my birthday, and I should've asked before making other plans—" 

"No, you didn't," he interrupted her. "You have a life outside of being friends with me. It's not surprise that you enjoy that more. Do what makes you happy, Hermione." 

"But being with you makes me happy!" she cried, leaning forward to reach for his hands. He pulled away from her, and she found herself blinking away tears. "And I should have waited, should have known . . . but I didn't and I am so, so sorry." 

"You've said that already. It's getting a bit boring the way you keep repeating yourself." 

"I . . ." 

"Please. If you've nothing else to say . . ." 

Hermione exhaled deeply, trying to soothe her nerves. "It's hard to say what needs to be said. I saw Ron earlier today. He was steaming mad, saying that I'd been a complete . . . that I'd been so cruel the way I treated you, and he's right. So I wanted to let you know that I am . . . that I regret how I acted and that I've come to my senses and I hope you can find it in you to forgive me." 

"All right," Harry said. That gave Hermione hope that perhaps he was on his way to forgiving her for the way she had acted recently. 

"Do you still have those tickets? Because I'd love to go—" 

"I thought you already had plans," Harry said dully. 

"It doesn't matter. I'll cancel," she told him. "I'd rather be with you." 

"Too bad I've got rid of them then." 

"Oh." She picked at the fuzz on his blanket, not being sure of what to say next. "That is too bad. I would have loved to go . . . with you." 

"Then you should have bloody well said yes last night!" Harry glared at her, and she was taken aback at how mad he was at her. "You made me feel like I was biggest git in the world with the way you accused me of always taking you for granted when the only I did was try to treat you to a nice birthday." 

"I know. I said I'm sorry." 

"Yeah, you did. But I remember me saying the same to you, back when you moved out, and you not accepting. No, you had to stay mad at me for the entire week after. I wonder how you'd like it if I didn't speak to you for the next two weeks. That'd make things square." 

Hermione bit back a sob. He was furious with her and for good reason. She had thought maybe he felt the same way . . . and maybe she did, but she had destroyed that. Hermione cursed herself for being so stubborn. If only she hadn't pushed him so hard . . . but there was nothing she could do right now except apologize. 

"I am sorry, Harry, so sorry." She stood up and walked to the door. "And I didn't come here to argue, only to apologize. I've done that and I know you don't want me here . . .so I guess I'll be leaving now." Her hand was reaching for the doorknob when suddenly she was embraced from behind. 

"I never want you to leave," Harry whispered into her hair. She felt him sobbing, leading to her own wall of tears breaking loose. 

"You don't?" she asked, choking on her tears. 

"No, I don't. I've always wanted you with me, wanted you to stay—" He never got to finish that thought as Hermione turned around to place her lips firmly on his. He stiffened in surprise, before returning the kiss and lifting Hermione up to carry her back to his bed.   
  
  


**Author's note:** I know I usually update before now. This chapter would have been up sooner, except that ff.net had disabled its login area and so I could not update. It was ready to go however. Next chapter hopefully will be up on Friday. I hope everyone liked this one and I'd appreciate it if you could leave me a review to let me know what you thought. Also, thanks to **Shawn Pickett**, **Star19**, **bamaslamma29**, **Shorty4Life **(because it's more fun for them to be dumb ^_~), **Ramy**, **Pinku-koneko**, **kyc639 **(yes, it'd be very bad for him if he was going to continue to put up with it), **Akshara**, **ILUVRONWEASLEY **(hope you like this ending better), **lee74 **(if I classify a fic as a certain ship, it'll be that -- eventually), **LeslieGlady**, **SunnyDae**, **Animagus-Steph **(glad you liked, no didn't think you were being overbearing), **Fatima** (yes, she can and that was half the fun), **sally**, **Wytil** (I was going to do that, but decided against it), **Fire-bound Heart**, **ears91**, **TheSilverLady**, **Aurora Rehona** (thanks for the review of Wait ^_^), **tOmLuVeR17**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **malu**, **spacey-me90**, **TheWraith1**, **stephen**, **Blood57** (I think I've good reason not to show a D/Hr date this chapter), **ravenclaw's heir**, **Harpee-Lady**, **Sam8**, **Anonymous9**, **Sheilalein**, **Irish Dancing Girl**, **BooksCleverness**, **Devinj2000**, **hpfanmelissa **(I'll try to email this weekend -- sorry, this has been a bad week for me), **avada kedavra**, **myman-harry526**, **rochele-88**, **TheSkeikah** (thanks for the compliment, but am sorry the critique isn't making much sense, probably cause I need more sleep, otherwise I'd respond), **zidane3**, **piper-h-99**, **Kage Miko**, **telmie**, **CeHsGoodGirl**, **Kate**, **Disco Duck **(I see someone ought to agree with what Ron says this chapter ^_~), **Megan**, **athipsou**, **Jo**, **minute majesty**, and **Leah6** (I hope this is okay) for their reviews of the previous chapter. I enjoyed reading what you all had to say. 


	16. Chapter Sixteen : My Friend's Love

  
**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Sixteen : My Friend's Love**   


Hermione awoke the next morning, with a slight headache. _An aftereffect of all those tears, I suppose_, she thought. She smiled as she remembered whose bed she was in. They hadn't done much afterwards, except kiss and make up and promise that they'd always be together, but she knew she'd never forget last evening. She knew that he wouldn't either. 

It was funny how natural it was to wake up next to him. She pondered briefly if it would still be as comfortable to do so if they had done more than cuddle and talk late into the night. Though she couldn't prevent the momentary rush of blood to her face, it wasn't from embarrassment. Perhaps that was how she was able to know that he was _it _– she was comfortable enough to be herself around him and yet he could still make her heart race with a single smile. She smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek, before sitting up to get up out of bed. 

Or rather, tried to get out of bed. Before she could leave, Harry's arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him. "I thought I asked you to stay," he mumbled sleepily. 

"You did. And I wasn't leaving," she said. 

"It sure looked like you were leaving the bed." 

"I thought I'd make you breakfast in bed." 

He lifted himself up and gave her a quick, sloppy kiss. "There are three problems with that, love," he stated. "One, it is your birthday. I am the one who should bring you breakfast." 

"Honestly, I thought you were asleep." 

"I usually get up before you, Hermione. I was enjoying being next to the woman I love"—it was amazing how her heart leapt at those words—"before she tried to leave. And I've not mentioned the second problem yet." 

"Which undoubtedly will be the fact that you think I can't cook." 

"That's not it at all." He paused, a grin forming on his face. "I know you can't cook, Hermione. You've proved it again and again." 

"Practice makes perfect," she insisted. 

"But you had to admit you need a lot more practice." A look of chagrin crossed Harry's face as he realized what he had stepped into. 

"Exactly! That's why I ought to cook breakfast. As practice," Hermione said, pouncing on the opening he had left her. 

"Fine, fine. I'll go too." 

"No, you can stay here. I'll bring it to you once it's done." 

"Someone has to be there to make sure the kitchen doesn't burn down," he told her. "And you've always been a little firestarter," he added, reminding her of the blue flames she used to keep in jars. 

"Hey! I'll have you know that I know more dousing spells than you do. And I can prove it to you right now!" Hermione reached for her wand, intending to wave it threateningly at Harry, but she couldn't find it. _Damn! I must have left it in the kitchen last night_, she thought. Harry only crossed his arms and looked smugly at her. 

"It would help if you had your wand, wouldn't it?" he said. "Come on. I'll go with you." He suddenly leaned close to her, his nose right up against her, and her heart started beating so fast that it was almost frightening. "Besides, I've not mention the most important thing yet." 

"And that is?" 

"The fact that I want to be with you." He punctuated the declaration with a kiss, and there was little Hermione could do to refuse him after that. Not that she would want to. 

She rather wanted to be with him as well. 

Harry started looking around, as if searching for something, and Hermione realized that he was looking for his glasses. She had thought he had been wearing them when she had finally fallen asleep last night, but she guessed he had taken the off afterwards. A quick glance across the room revealed to her that they were on the nightstand on his side of the bed. She felt the corners of her lips turn up. It was absolutely precious the way he was trying to find them. She was kind of disappointed when he located them and stuffed them on his face. The look on her face tipped him off to her amusement. 

"You knew where they were all along, didn't you?" he asked accusingly. She nodded her head yes. "And you couldn't be bothered to let me know where they were?" She shook her head no. He sighed with exasperation. "Was it fun, watching me—" 

"Not fun, Harry, not exactly that." She squeezed his hand. "You were adorable, the way you were looking around for them like a lost puppy." 

"I'm not sure if I like being called adorable." 

"You ought to be." 

"Why?" 

"Because it makes me want to do this." She kissed him, and it went on for several minutes. When it was over, he sat back a bit dazed from the intensity of it. 

"Wow," he said. "I must remember to lose my glasses more often." 

The two of them proceeded to make their way to the kitchen, with a rather long pause in the living room as Harry realized he had yet to wish her a happy birthday and deciding to remedy that by treating her to a birthday snog. "The first of many," he promised, and Hermione found herself grinning back at him, looking forward to them all. It was amazing, how she could have gone from being so miserable a mere day ago and trying to make others unhappy along with her to being so happy that she felt that she could fly. 

Once they had reach their destination, Harry delegated her the task of making toast, while he set about doing something with eggs. Ten minutes later, the kitchen was full of smoke as the toast somehow spontaneously caught on fire. Before she could put them out, Harry had already done so. He waved her to the table, saying that he could finish on his own, thank you, and coffee was up. Hermione knew better than to protest as she was going to have a hard time living this one down. And when Harry told Ron about it, Ron would be sure to counter with that story of her burning a pot of water. Which really hadn't been her fault at all as she'd been reading a particularly interesting study on layering shield spells. Yet, despite the ignominy of almost burning down the kitchen on her birthday, a smile remained on her face. She expected her face to be in pain by the end of the day, but she couldn't help herself, now that she knew that he loved her as much as she loved him. And it was probably more incredible that she was inspired to think of such a cliched phrase. 

"So what do you want to do today?" Harry asked her as he plopped an omelet on her plate. 

"I don't know." She frowned at the plate. "I think this is too big for me, Harry," she said. 

"It's for both of us." He pulled up a chair next to her. "Or maybe you don't want to share?" 

"I suppose telling you to get your own plate would be a lost cause?" 

"Smart girl. Always knew you were bright." He stabbed the omelet with his fork and offered it to her. She accepted the bite and chewed slowly. "Like?" he asked, when she had finished. 

"Mmm . . . very much," she said. "Have I ever told you how glad I am that one of us is able to cook?" 

"Yes, you have. Several times in fact. But don't let that stop you from telling me again," he replied. "But back to the topic of what to do. I have no plans, so if there's anything that you want to do—" 

"Damn." Hermione grimaced. "Can I borrow Hedwig? I need to scribble a note to Malfoy, telling him that I won't be able to make it tonight." 

Harry cocked an eyebrow at her. "I thought you'd already canceled with him." 

"No, I didn't want to do so face to face," she said. "Because that would have taken time and I would have had to stay even later to finish my work and I wanted to see you right away." 

"You could just leave him hanging," Harry suggested hopefully. "He'll get the hint after awhile." 

"Harry!" 

"What?" 

"That's an awful thing to say." 

"You can't expect me to be nice to him. Not after the way he tried to steal you away from me." 

"Harry! He wasn't trying to do that. He never showed the slightest bit of interest in me," Hermione said. 

"That's what you think. I beg to differ." He huffed and seemed a bit disgruntled. "Trust me, Hermione, most wizards do not go out of their way to invite their female co-workers to dinner just about every other night, if they don't have other plans in mind." 

"If he did have other plans," she said, "he might as well have never bothered as he never had a chance anyway. Not when he was going up against you." That put a smile back firmly on his face, and he relented enough to let her use Hedwig to send a brief note. No reply was sent back with the owl, and Hermione dreaded what Malfoy would say to her on Monday. She shook herself to get rid of such thoughts. That might be awful indeed, but as for now, she wanted to enjoy spending the weekend with Harry. 

When breakfast was finished, they both got dressed for the day and headed towards Diagon Alley, as Harry insisted on seeing Ron to let him know everything was all right between them once more. Hermione had pouted and said that she thought everything was more than all right, promptly causing Harry to initiate another birthday snog. After she had caught her breath from that, she had told him that she hoped that he wouldn't stop kissing her after her birthday could no longer be used as an excuse. The look in his eyes told her the answer to that one. 

Ron was busy in the back room, when they arrived at the twins' shop, and George waved them both in, warning them not to touch anything. Hermione rolled her eyes, as they knew better than that. It was a joke shop after all, and even worse, it was one created by the twins. Anyone who didn't know that was in serious need of some help. They found Ron at a table, counting what looked like an innocent batch of chocolate. 

"Hello," he greeted them, noting their linked hands. "So I guess Hermione here has finally come to her senses." 

"Yes, I have," she said. 

"Thanks to me," he noted with a smirk. Turning to Harry, he said, "She's lucky that us blokes aren't like witches. We don't tend to hold grudges." 

"I don't hold grudges either!" she protested. The two wizards simply exchanged a look, as if agreeing on a course of action. 

"How about Skeeter?" asked Ron. 

"I don't hold a grudge against her. I simply despise her complete lack of morals." 

"And Trelawney?" Harry prompted. 

"I only wish she'd get a clue so she'd stop searching tea leaves for one." 

"And Cho?" Ron continued. 

Hermione tossed her head. "She obviously didn't know how to properly appreciate what a good . . . hey! No fair asking that!" 

"I rest my case," Ron finished smugly. 

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but she was stopped by Harry's mouth covering hers. She eagerly dived in to the kiss, loving how close they were and the thrill of pleasure she got as their teeth clashed and their tongues dueled. Ron patiently sat their, looking at his watch. Finally, he interrupted them, saying, "That's enough now, you crazy kids. You're getting a bit too close for comfort. My comfort, to be precise." 

"What is that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked. 

"That there are some things I'd rather not see." 

"Trust Ron to interrupt a birthday snog," Harry noted ruefully. 

"As if you need an excuse," Ron scoffed. "But that's right. Happy birthday, Hermione." He pushed his tray of chocolates in her direction. "Would you like a Complimentary Chocolate?" he asked. 

Something about the way he said it made it clear he was using capital letters and that aroused her suspicion. "Complimentary Chocolate? What does it do?" 

"I'm glad you asked." He picked one up. "Eat one of these and you'll not have enough good things to say about the first person you see afterwards." He winked at them. "Too bad we didn't have these when we were at Hogwarts. Imagine all the points we'd be able to get off of Snape." 

"He'd probably take them all back once the spell wore off," Harry noted. 

"More than that, if you think about it. This is Snape we're talking about," Hermione added. 

"True, true. But to see the look of shock on his face as he awards a Gryffindor with hundreds of points . . ." Ron sighed happily. "It would've been worth it." He put the bespelled sweet down. "You are welcome to have one – or more – if you like. The twins won't mind. And you can feed them to Harry whenever you think he's not being sweet enough for you." 

"I hope she'll never need them for that, mate." 

"Yeah, and she probably never will. But a back up plan would be good, yes?" 

Hermione shook her head no, privately thinking to herself that real compliments were better than those that were the product of a spell. "I'd rather hear what Harry wants to say instead," she said simply. Both Harry and Ron beamed at her when she said that. 

"Right on," said Ron. "You couldn't have given a better answer than that. Oh, and I do have a gift for you, but unfortunately, I left it at the Burrow." His gaze slipped away from hers, and Hermione wondered if he was telling the complete truth. "So I'll give it to you when I see you next. Whenever that may be." 

"If you don't have one, that's fine. I'm not one to insist upon presents," she said. 

"I do, I do have one for you. I told you that I forgot it, didn't I?" He wore an expression of injured pride. 

"Fine, I believe you. I didn't want you to think that I'd get mad if you had nothing." 

"I know, Hermione. Now you two go and have fun. I'll bring it by tomorrow." He sighed heavily. "In the mean time, I see a lot of counting in my immediate future. Even Trelawney could get that one right." 

The two of them waved good bye to their friend and headed out, grateful that nothing had happened to them while they were in there. Harry suggested that they go to Flourish and Blotts. Hermione, who was never one to refuse a chance to buy more books, readily agreed. Harry surprised her by saying he'd buy her all the books she wanted once they were inside the shop as a present. Hermione flushed and floundered and thanked him for it. She picked out a couple select volumes that she had been wanting to own for some time and handed them over for him to pay for them. While she knew he could have easily afforded more, she wasn't very comfortable with taking advantage of his generosity. She kissed him lightly afterwards, and she could have sworn she saw the flash of a camera go off. Harry had spotted it as well, and he swore under his breath. It wasn't hard to guess what would hit the fan tomorrow. 

"Is it that bad?" she asked after he had finished his rant. 

"What?" 

"Having people know that you're with me?" 

"No, Hermione. Not at all. That part actually is good so they know you're spoken for," he said. He draped his arm rather possessively around her. "It's the complete lack of privacy that I'm afforded that really upsets me." 

"I could disguise you next time," she suggested. 

"Then they'd say how you're cheating on me and you'll get a fresh new round of hate mail. Sometimes, I wish I could get away from it all." There wasn't any real way to respond to that in words, so Hermione rested her head against him as they continued to walk down the pavement and that seemed to help him calm down. Eventually, he asked if she would mind dropping by Hogwarts to see Professor Lupin, who was teaching DADA once again. She assented, thinking it would be better if Lupin heard about them directly rather than through some rag of a newspaper. 

The impromptu trip turned out to do everyone good as Lupin's eyes positively lit up when he saw them together. Their old professor had seemed depressed after Harry had finally defeated You-Know-Who, probably because all of his friends from his years at Hogwarts were dead or worse. 

It was funny, in a sad sort of way. When she was younger, she thought that when Harry finally got rid of You-Know-Who, everything would be right in the world. But things hadn't changed that much. People were still frightened of werewolves, though Lupin was attempting to change that for the next generation of wizards and witches. House Elfs still were not free, and S.P.E.W. was regarded by many as a bad joke that wouldn't go away. There were even some sectors of Wizarding society that still looked poorly upon Muggle-borns. That wasn't as bad or as pronounced as before, especially given there were no longer homicidal maniacs set on killing all Muggle-borns on the loose, but the prejudice remained visible. Hermione believed that the world had become a bit brighter with Harry's victory, but there was much room for improvement. 

She didn't think that task would ever be complete. 

Lupin insisted on the two of them staying for lunch and led them to eat at the staff table in the Great Hall. It was a bit unnerving, how closely they were watched by the students there. Hermione didn't remember receiving this much attention while she was at Hogwarts, but it was probably different for Harry. The first years were the worse as they hadn't ever met the two of them before, while the seventh years took their presence in stride. Ginny trotted up to say hello, with Colin trailing behind, and Hermione was eternally grateful that the youngest Weasley had done something to his camera as it was not hanging around his neck. 

The rest of the professors began to drift in for lunch. Professor Flitwick congratulated them on their relationship and went on to wish Hermione a happy birthday. Trelawney made an appearance as well, but fortunately something had happened to her voice. Hermione didn't know what, but given the wink Ginny directed at her, she was willing to bet that the youngest Weasley had a hand in it, maybe with a small bit of assistance from her older brothers. Hermione made a mental note to do something nice for her friend soon. Snape came in and promptly ignored the two of them, though by the sour look on his face, Hermione didn't think he was pleased. Hagrid clapped Harry on the back and said something about Harry's parents, which led to a spat of reminiscing between Hagrid and Lupin about those earlier times. 

The mood darkened when McGonagall joined them. This was through no fault of the older witch, but the fact that she was now headmistress of the school only reminded everyone of what had bee lost. Hermione felt bad for her former professor. She didn't look like she had been getting enough sleep, and Hermione imagined that it must be a difficult act to follow Dumbledore. It must be even more difficult to soothe the relations between the Houses as things had been very bad last year. Hermione wished there was something she could do. She promised herself to ask, albeit in a more private setting as she didn't think the professor would appreciate that being the subject of conversation in front of everyone, including students. 

After lunch, they stayed to watch the first Quidditch match of the season, which pitted Gryffindor against Hufflepuff. Gryffindor won, but barely, with Ginny grabbing the Snitch before the other Seeker. They stayed on a bit for the inevitable party afterwards, and Ginny had laughed nervously, saying that she hoped they found another Seeker soon. Harry agreed, saying that they'd need to find one for next year anyway, and Hermione's attention soon wandered away as the two of them went on and on about that subject. She didn't want to interrupt the two of them, but she did want to see her parents. 

Finally, she decided that she had to barge in, otherwise she'd never get a chance to go home. "I don't mean to stop the two of you from plotting strategy," she said, "but would you mine if I go? I'd like to see my parents." 

"Of course not, Hermione. I understand," Ginny said. "Sorry for keeping you here so long. Though I'm amazed that you're still here, given that you must be bored to tears with the two of us." She glanced at Harry and grinned. "Are you going with her?" she asked. 

"Um . . . I don't . . . do you want me to go, Hermione?" he asked. 

"Yes, of course I do." She frowned. For some reason, he was looking a bit frightened at the prospect of seeing her parents. Suddenly, she recalled how her dad had reacted to him last time. He wasn't likely to be any friendlier today, as the last she talked to him, he had it out for Harry. "Would you rather stay here? So you don't have to see my dad?" she asked. 

"Um . . . I want to be with you, but your dad is—" 

"A fire-breathing dragon who happened to take the form of a Muggle, if you believe what my brother says about him," Ginny filled in for him. "I doubt that. He's never been anything but polite to me." 

"Thanks for the support," said Hermione. 

"But then, you should have seen the transformation my dad went through when I brought Colin home this summer. Between him and all my brothers, it's a miracle that Colin didn't bolt." Ginny shook her head sadly. "And that's not the worst of it." 

"What is?" Hermione asked. 

"The fact that I know that Colin will be even worse when his own daughter brings home her first wizard. Not that I'm planning on marriage or having his children or anything like that," she added hastily. "I would think that he would have some pity on those poor suitors given what my family put him through, but by then, he'll most likely be using them as examples." 

"I know I plan to ask for ideas from your brothers," Harry piped up. Hermione shot him a look that said now-you've-done-it. 

"If that's how you feel, let's visit my parents and you can take notes." Harry groaned and Ginny laughed at his despair. He shouldn't have said that in front of Hermione. They took their leave of the Gryffindors and all too soon for Harry's peace of mind, they were at the Grangers' doorstep. 

Hermione's visit with her parents didn't last as long as she would have liked. While her mum welcomed Harry warmly into their home, it was almost possible to see the steam billowing off her dad's head each time he looked at Harry. Happily, Harry had enough sense to keep his mouth shut for the most part, but it couldn't have been comfortable for him. Hermione decided that she'd have a little talk with her dad later. At that thought, she repressed a sigh. Here it was, her birthday, and her mental list of things to do was getting larger by the minute. 

By the time they said their good-byes to her parents, the two of them were starving. Harry announced that he was too hungry too cook, which she noted was just like a boy. He ignored that comment and suggested that they go to Four Seasons, a Wizarding restaurant. Its particular selling point was the fact that one ate in a private room and got to choose which season the room would be in, hence its name. Hermione agreed for she had wanted to eat there for some time. When they got there, Harry quickly chose winter as their season, causing Hermione to raise an eyebrow. The room wasn't as cold as winter could be, but it was cold enough. Hermione used the chill as an excuse to cuddle with Harry all throughout dinner and she didn't think that he minded. Scratch that. From what she felt, she knew he didn't mind the slightest bit. Following dinner, they went to a movie and when that was over, they found themselves wandering the streets, not having any destination in mind but not ready to go home yet. Somehow, they found themselves in a Muggle bar, which had several billiards tables. 

They ordered drinks and Hermione noticed that Harry's gaze kept returning to the billiards table. "Would you like to play?" she asked as their drinks arrived. He nodded eagerly. She picked up her glass and walked over to one, selecting a cue stick from the wall. "Have you ever played before?" 

The way he hurriedly shook his head no should have been a big tip off for her. Unfortunately for her, she had gone in to lecture mode and was already telling Harry all the finer points of the game, not thinking that he'd ever had the chance to play given his relatives. When she had finished explaining everything, she asked, "So can you remember all that?" 

He nodded yes again. "I think I'll pick it up as we go along." 

"Okay. I'll break this first time." Hermione bent over, sighted the cue ball down the middle, pulled back her stick, and then shot. 

The damn thing bounced off the rest of the balls and headed into the corner pocket. She cursed fluently as Harry laughed. 

"Bad luck, I suppose. Should I give it a try?" he offered, tears falling out of his eyes from laughing too hard. 

"Go ahead." She waved him on. "Though you might want to stop laughing like a hyena. That might improve your aim." He grinned cockily and stepped up to the table. A moment later, the cue ball was flying away and he managed to knock in not one or two, but three balls. 

It was almost insulting. 

"I should've known. Beginner's luck," she huffed. He didn't contradict her, but continued to play, knocking in ball after ball. When she finally got another chance, she didn't hit a thing, giving him two turns in a row. He won the first game after that, which made her challenge him to the best two out of three. She reasoned that his luck had to run out some time. 

Now, as she went for the best four out of seven, she had to wonder whether it was luck at all. He was playing too well for that. It didn't help that she was a horrendous player. The only ball she had managed to get in the pocket was the five ball (aside from the cue ball and the eight ball), and that was two games ago. 

It didn't look good for her. And she was getting desperate. 

Normally, Hermione wasn't one to use feminine wiles to get her way. She had looked down upon witches who got their own way by virtue of their looks. But things were looking very badly for her and she was sorely tempted to do something along those lines. Hermione wasn't delusional enough to think that she was a looker, but there are some assets that wizards were always willing to stare at. 

It would be a dirty, rotten thing to do. It'd be kind of like cheating, except not. It would definitely give her an advantage, but it might not be enough. Despite all that, she wasn't the type to go down without a fight. 

Figuratively speaking of course. 

Hermione decided to go for it. She needed whatever extra edge the move would give her. In one swift motion, she took off her shirt. 

Harry's jaw dropped. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Harry had been a very good boy the whole day. Oh yes he had. He had not teased Hermione incessantly when she had burned the toast or told Ron about that incident. He had gone willingly to visit her parents and hadn't whinged the slightest after that painful interlude. And now, he was being a very good boy by not immediately reaching out to caress Hermione's breast through the very thin camisole she was wearing. 

Nope, he was merely enjoying the view. If she didn't want him to enjoy it, then it was too bad. She should have bloody well kept her shirt on in that case. You couldn't expose a pair of full, soft breasts like that and not expect a bloke to stare. Especially when it was Hermione doing so, as she wasn't one to flaunt her cleavage, which was a pity. And so of course, he was taking in the view and it was even better that it was his girlfriend – or at least he thought she was given everything that had happened recently – and so he could look with impunity. 

Suddenly, his survival instincts kicked in and he realized that Hermione was talking to him. 

"—getting kind of boring with you taking all the shots. So you won't mind if I go again? Even though I missed and it's you who should be going twice?" she asked brightly. Harry waved her on. Him mind? Not bloody likely. Not when she bent over like that. It was as well that she was wearing jeans instead of a pair of shorts, because if he could see her arse as well, who knew how long he could keep his control. Harry kept letting Hermione take shot after shot, knowing that she was doing this to win and not really caring. If anything, he wished she'd be a bit faster with all of this. She could stop asking for his permission after each shot for one, as it was obvious that he wasn't interested in the game any more. On top of that, it was taking her forever to land balls in the pocket. He was so much better at it than her. 

That was when it hit him. Nice, long cue stick. Balls. Pockets. Harry groaned. He wanted to bury himself into her pocket and he wanted to do it now. 

Striding up to her, he embraced her from behind, grinding his erection against that fine arse of hers. She moaned and pushed back against him, and he almost lost it then and there. He let go of her to turn her around face him and then bent down for a kiss. She eagerly responded, her arms going around his neck. She squealed as he broke the kiss and frantically fumbled in his pocket, searching for a few quid to leave the bartender and then tossing it on to the table. He wanted to leave _now_. 

He half-carried Hermione into the men's room. He took a quick glance around, and after seeing that there were no Muggles to notice them, he Apparated both of them to just outside their flat. Once there, Hermione seemed intent on distracting him from the very important task of opening the door by snogging him senseless. It was only by luck that he got it open and the two of them almost fell through it. He kicked the door close and crawled over back to Hermione, eager to feel her silky breasts once again, to taste her sweet mouth once again – and more. As she responded to him more readily than he had ever imagined, with her hands working to free him from his trousers, he knew they weren't going to make it to the bed in time.   


**Author's note:** The next chapter will be up next Friday. I hope you liked this one and I'd be grateful if you could let me know what you thought of it by leaving a review. A big thanks goes out to **Shawn Pickett**, **Rebeca**, **LeslieGladly **(thanks ^_^ ), **thefionna **(I hope it lives up to expectations), **Harpee-Lady**, **ksmcan**, **Erika**, **Elizabeth M. Potter**, **mikeus**, **ears91**, **Disco Duck**, **Star19**, **Fire-bound heart**, **Blood57 **(I'd ask you meant by 'screw Malfoy,' except I might not want to know), **Korine **(was chapter fourteen that bad?), **Sheilalein**, **Fatima**, **Devinj2000**, **Natalie314159**, **Wytil **(they're too young to marry!), **EuphoniumGurl0**, **sinta1**, **Izabel**, **Megan**, **athipsou**, **Ramy **(am glad you liked the timing), **Hpfreak123**, **Carolyn**, **stephen**, **SilverFoot **(no, but I like the fact that posting is quick and easy), **lucy**, **spacey-me90**, **TheSilverLady**, **BlueEpiks13**, **Muse **(yes, she had been which is why Ron called her on it), **rochele-88**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **danielerin**, **Melissa**, **ravenclaw's heir**, **MEGAN**, **Leah6 **(a chapter has to end somewhere ^_~ ), **sweetheart87**, **Jo**, **happy2**, **CeHsGoodGirl**, **bamaslamma29**, **tOmLoVeR17**, **Robaatsu**, **Aurora Rehona**, **mutsumi**, **Sam8** (yes, it does. It's better to have anticipation), **malu**, **Finally**, **avadakedavra**, **lee74**, **Lil-frankie14**, **Mistress Desdemona** (actually, I was thinking of auctioning Draco off to the highest bidder, but he wouldn't agree), **Amynoelle**, **zidane3**, **telmie**, **samuri**, **Tiffie101**, **blondi gurl**, **myman-harry526**, **kyc639 **(no angst as they're still in their honeymoon period, so to speak), **Sakura Mori **(glad to see there's no _zuka _between that), **candygoddess **(this fic isn't over quite yet), **Laren**, **ExcalibursZone**, **darkfairy905**, **Painted Toenail **(thank you and the Draco thing will take awhile), **Pinku-koneko**, **ILUVRONWEASLEY **(enjoy your holidays), **mione1**, **TheWraith1 **(did you think I was going to drag it out for another fifteen chapters?), **Nimue**, **Maren L_P**, and **hpfanmelissa **for reviewing the last chapter. ^_^ I'm happy to see that you liked it. 

As for some general comments, I was thinking that I could finish this fic in a few more chapters, but it doesn't seem likely now. I've a couple more things to cover, and I don't just want to breeze over them. Thanks once again to everyone who reviewed. It was lovely to read your comments. 


	17. Chapter Seventeen : Flower Garden

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Seventeen : Flower Garden**   


As things turned out, they hadn't made it to the bed the second time either. The third time, they had finally made it to Harry's bed. Later on, they went to hers, as Hermione insisted that they needed to break it in as well. Harry really enjoyed doing it there. Hermione was nearly aggressive, as she took charge and rode him to completion. They had been too exhausted afterwards to move and slept there, snuggling together the whole time. 

It was no surprise that Harry had a very big grin on his face when he awoke. He rather expected his face to hurt by the end of the day from smiling as he didn't see how he could stop. Hermione's birthday yesterday had been one to remember. 

And he wanted to get a billiards table when they got a bigger place. Which ought to be sooner rather than later. So that way the next time she decided to strip like that, he could take her on the table rather than having to wait until they got back home. Just the thought of shagging Hermione like that was enough to get him excited again. 

Harry settled back down, hugging Hermione closer to him and wishing that she were awake. Not that he was going to wake her up, as she needed her rest after last night. He supposed that it was just as well otherwise he'd be too knackered to make it to practice on Monday, though he could always call in sick. How long that excuse would work, however, he did not know. 

"Again?" mumbled Hermione sleepily as she turned around to face him. It appeared that she hadn't been sleeping as deeply as he had thought. "Don't you ever get tired?" she asked. 

"Yes, on occasion, but it takes awhile." He kissed her softly. She was utterly charming when she was half-asleep like that. "But I know you need your rest, love." 

That set something off deep within her. She shot a glance at him, plainly conveying her discontent with that remark. "I do not need my rest. I'll have you know that witches have a much quicker recovery time than wizards and—" 

"I know, Hermione," he began, but she wasn't about to be stopped. 

"And so if you're ready to go, I assure you so am I," she finished. 

There wasn't much he could say to that and actions spoke louder than words anyway. Neither of them had any trouble keeping up with the other that morning. 

Later that day, when they finally tumbled out of bed and were able to stop acting like a pair of lovesick fools – which took some doing considering the fact that they were lovesick fools – they turned to go to the kitchen as if they were of a single mind because they both were ravenous. Harry didn't want to suggest going out again, because he enjoyed having Hermione all to himself, and he thought that Hermione felt the same way about him. Unfortunately, there was an owl awaiting Hermione when she reached the kitchen. It patiently waited for her to remove the message before taking off once again. His hunger momentarily forgotten, he watched as Hermione opened and read the letter. 

She sighed when she finished and put it down. "So should we eat here or go out?" she asked. "Do we have anything that we could eat here?" 

"Yes, we do, and I'd vote for staying here all day," said Harry. He nodded at the letter. "So who is it from?" 

Hermione groaned and thumped her head down on the table. "Can we not talk about it right now? It's not something I feel up to dealing with without a bit of nourishment in me." 

"Fine, fine. Shall we skip breakfast all together given how late it is or do you still—" 

"You decide." Hermione smiled at him. "You are the cook, after all. I'll just do you the favor of not getting in your way." 

"I appreciate that. Tell me again. What did you do to burn the toast yesterday?" He turned to the fridge, pulling out some eggs. Breakfast would be easier to make, and it required less time. He could think of better things to do with that time, and they all involved getting closer to Hermione. 

"I didn't do a thing." She glared at him. "That toaster is possessed. It is out to get me. It is determined to see me humiliated before your very eyes." 

"Hermione, it's a toaster, not a minion of Voldemort," he said reasonably, noticing Hermione's shudder from the corner of his eye. "It's an inanimate object. It can't do anything like that." 

"How do you know that?" 

"If it is, why don't you get rid of it? We can always get a new one, you know." 

Hermione sighed. "It'd be no use. Every toaster has treated me like that since I was a little girl." Harry smiled at that picture. He could just see a little eleven year-old Hermione burning the toast that day she went to Hogwarts. She would be frantic and wishing she already knew magic to put out the fire with. "You can stop grinning like that," Hermione added. "I didn't burn down my parents' house at any time while growing up." 

"That's good to hear. Makes me feel much safer." He ducked almost sub-consciously in case Hermione decided to lob something in his direction because of that remark. She did not. He turned around to face her, so he could watch her emotions at his next question. "But I'm curious. Did you burn toast that first morning, when you were due to catch the Hogwarts Express?" 

Hermione grimaced. "I did! It was horrid, Harry! I was sure I was going to miss that train, and I'd have to spend another awful year with my old classmates! Thank goodness I was up so early that day. Otherwise, I might not have made it." 

"And we would have never met," he said softly. "I think that would've been a small sort of tragedy." 

"Oh, I have no doubt that we would've met eventually. I can't imagine us not." 

"I know. I don't think I'd want to anyway." Finished at the stove, Harry plated the food and brought it to the table. "And I guess I shouldn't ask you to have any dealings with that toaster? Or any toaster from the sounds of it?" 

"I am perfectly capable of putting out fires on my own now, you know." 

"I know. But why waste perfectly good bread by letting you wreak your own special brand of havoc on them?" he asked. This time he didn't duck when he should have. Hermione playfully hit him on his shoulder. 

"You're not ever going to let me forget that, are you?" 

"Yes, probably," he agreed. His mood turned serious as he continued. "I'd have to forget all of yesterday for me not to remember how it started in the morning. And I don't ever want to do that. Though I won't tease you about it, if it upsets you . . ." 

Hermione shook her head furiously. "It doesn't upset me." She reached out to take his hand in hers. "I don't mind it when you tease me . . . you don't do it to be mean, just to get me to relax and have some fun. And I'd worry if you'd stop. It'd make me wonder if you still liked me." 

"You shouldn't ever worry about that," he said. "I wouldn't be me if I didn't have Hermione to look after me." He cleared his throat. "So what was that all about?" he asked, pointing at the letter, needing to change the subject before his emotions got the better of him. 

Hermione frowned. "It's nothing for you to worry about." 

"Okay. I was only curious," he said. 

"I know. I wasn't going to not tell you . . . but before I did, I wanted to say that it was nothing for you to worry about." She took a deep breath. "It's from Malfoy. He's not happy that I canceled doing anything with him yesterday and he wants to know if I'm up to spending some time with him today." 

Harry sat in silence as he took that in. Now Hermione's comment made sense. Nice of her to let him know that he needn't worry about it . . . except that he couldn't help but worry. He almost felt sorry for Malfoy, the way Hermione had agreed to spend so much time with him. It must have got his hopes up, only to have them dashed yesterday. But first things first – Harry needed to see where they were at. 

"You're not thinking of going out with him, are you?" he asked in a small voice. 

"Of course not!" Hermione looked shocked at the suggestion. "I want to be with you, Harry, not with him. My first response was to tell to sod off because I want to spend the day with my boyfriend, but I thought I'd be more tactful than that." 

Harry's face lit up. "Am I? Your boyfriend, that is." 

"I certainly hope so," she replied. "You are, right? And I'm your girlfriend?" 

"That sounds right to me." He beamed at her. "And that calls for a celebratory snog." He leaned towards her to press his lips against hers. She responded so fervently, so passionately that he wished he had said shag instead of snog. Though there was no reason why they couldn't shag here and now. Might be good practice for when he finally got that billiards table. 

Harry dragged himself away from Hermione and pushed their plates and that blasted letter aside. He reached for her and hoisted her up on the table, pressing himself eagerly against her as she opened her legs and clasped them around his waist. He crushed his lips against hers once more, before trailing kisses down her neck. "Harry," she half-moaned. "That feels so good." 

"Do you know what will feel even better?" he asked, as he rubbed himself against her, groaning as she bucked up against him. Oh yes she did know what would be even better. That suspicion was only further confirmed when she reached out and grabbed his right hand, pulling it downwards. 

He gasped as he realized that she wasn't wearing anything down there. 

"No knickers?" he asked. 

"No. Didn't see the point in putting on any as I knew you'd be trying to get me out of them later." She smirked smugly at him. 

"Too bad. Would've been fun getting them off. One of the best parts really. Kind of like unwrapping presents." 

"In that case, there's only one thing to do." 

"And that is?" 

"Get back to my bedroom to pull a pair on." At that suggestion, his hands settled back down on her hips, tightly holding her in place so she couldn't leave. 

"No," he said firmly. "Want to shag here." 

"That impatient, are you now, Harry?" 

"Need to work on my technique." 

"Technique? You seemed to have it down last night." Harry felt a swell of pride from that compliment. Yeah, he did, if her reactions were anything to go by. 

"Yeah, but I want to practice. So when I get that billiards table, I can shag you there without any mishaps." 

Her breath hitched as he said that. "You could have done that last night." 

"In public?" he asked, his breath hot against her neck. 

"Maybe not. But Harry, our table is nothing like—oh!" Hermione quivered as he entered her, and soon, she was not capable of any rational thought at all. Later, after they had both climaxed, they both returned to his room to relax and curl up in his bed. 

"So I believe you were saying something then," said Harry, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over them. 

"I was?" 

"Yes." 

Hermione's brow wrinkled. "I can't remember right now." She frowned at him. "And it's all your fault. You shouldn't shag me when I'm trying to think of something." 

Harry laughed. "Hermione! If I followed that rule, I'd never be able to touch you. Because you're always thinking." 

"I am not!" Hermione then considered what she had said. "Okay, usually I am thinking of something but . . ." 

"Don't worry," he said. "I love you anyway." He gently kissed her. She sighed and closed her eyes, relishing the moment. 

"I love you too." He grinned at her. "And what was I going to say before you distracted me?" She bit her lip as she tried to recall. 

"Distract you? Did you know how distracting you are? Especially when you're doing that?" 

"Doing what?" 

"Biting your lip when you're trying to think." He leaned towards her, with a glint of longing in his eyes. "Makes me want to shag you again." 

She blushed. "But you . . . oh! That's what it was. I was going to say that our table is nothing like a billiards table. There's no ridge for one, and it's less sturdy. And you don't have to wait to buy one. You could Transfigure it instead." 

"Excellent." A smug smile covered Harry's face. That was an absolutely brilliant idea. There were some advantages to dating the smartest witch to have ever passed through Hogwarts. "And I'm happy you didn't mention that before. It gives us something to do later." 

"You're incorrigible," said Hermione. 

"But you love me anyway," he replied. 

"I do," she said. The two of them cuddled closer and eventually feel asleep, with Harry's arm curled up possessively around Hermione's waist. 

When Harry woke up again, he found Hermione was no longer at his side. Sitting up quickly, he cast about for his glasses, only to find it being handed to him by her. 

"What are you doing out of bed?" he asked, feeling a sudden surge of panic rise up from his stomach. "Trying to leave me behind?" He knew that he had nothing to worry about, but he couldn't convince his heart. Their being together was too new for him to have that kind of assurance. 

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm still here. And before you say anything, I wasn't planning to try cooking either." She sat down beside him. "Though as much as it pains me to say this, we can't stay in bed forever." 

"Of course not. A little Transfiguration and we've got a—" 

"I meant that there are other things we ought to do today." 

"I suppose so. Ought to research that spell first, right?" Harry looked at her with puppy dog eyes, which prompted Hermione to ruffle his hair. That wasn't quite the response he had been hoping for, but it would do. For now. 

"Once you grab a hold of an idea, you never let it go, do you?" she said. She rolled her eyes. "But if that what it takes to get you up and out of bed . . ." 

"Hermione, you should know that you're all it takes to—" She laid a finger on his lips, stopping him in the middle of that thought. 

"Hush. And go get dressed. It's already past noon. Don't you remember Ron telling us yesterday that he'll be dropping by some time today?" she asked. 

"Yes . . . but I figured if we were occupied when he came by, then there'd be no one to let him in." 

Hermione shot him a look of pure disbelief. "So are you telling me that you completely forgot that you set up our flat to have limited Floo access? And that he's one of the few who can come in here at any time?" 

"Damn!" That was right! He could get in that way. Harry was going to have to fix that. "Fine, fine. I'm getting ready. But there's got to be a way where we can restrict access easily when we don't want to be . . . interrupted." He snapped his fingers. "Is there a library some place where we can research these spells, or do we have to go out and buy the books ourselves?" he asked. 

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "If you had ever been paying attention while in class, you'd know that yes, there are several libraries we can use. And you could go back and use the one at Hogwarts, if you want as well. That's probably the best option as it has the widest selection of reading material." She shook her head. "And if only you were this dedicated while at school!" 

"Well, I have more of a reason to want to bury my head into a book," he said. He grinned. "Should've tried shagging me before. That might have perked my interest in studying." 

Hermione didn't return his smile and turned away from him, sighing. "You weren't ever interested in me like that," she said in a small voice. 

Harry wanted to protest, to say that was wrong, but he couldn't. It was true. He hadn't ever shown the slightest bit of interest in Hermione at Hogwarts. To try and say otherwise would only insult Hermione's intelligence. There had been occasions when he had been struck by how lovely she looked and he had definitely noticed some of her finer assets (though every wizard in their year had), but on the most part, he had never considered her as anything other than a friend. It was strange, now that he looked back on it, given how close they were and how much time they spent together. She was the only witch who he ever really felt comfortable with, who he thought tried to look at him, rather than at his scar. Yet the fact remained, he didn't see how much he loved and needed her, until after she had moved in with him that first time. 

"I know," he said finally. "I . . . what can I say? I was stupid." He tugged at her arm, pulling her into his embrace. "But I'm not now . .. or not as much, at least. And I . . . I love you." That last confession managed to bring a smile to her face. 

"I love you too, Harry Potter," she said. She tilted up to kiss him, and soon they were aware of nothing else in the world but each other. 

It took them awhile after that to get dressed. In fact, that might have never happened if Hermione hadn't rushed over to her room and shut the door, insisting that he'd be too much of a distraction. They eventually wound up on the couch in the living room, with Harry lying down flat on his back and Hermione on top of him, the two of them exchanging languid kisses. Her kisses were becoming more passionate, as she reached to unbutton his shirt so she could run her hands across his chest. 

Of course, that was when the doorbell rang. 

Hermione jolted back, startled by the interruption. Harry pulled her back towards him. "Just ignore it," he said. 

"But that could be—" 

"So? Does my ego harm, the way you're eager to see another man like this." 

"Harry." She looked at him reproachfully. "There's no one else I'd rather be with than you." 

"Good." 

"But we can't ignore our friends simply because we want some more time alone together." 

"We can't?" 

For some reason, she blushed. "Okay, we can. But we shouldn't. Especially when said friend could lose his patience and get in here another way." 

"I hate to admit it, but you're right again," he said. Harry let go of her, and she rose from the couch, with him following after. They walked towards the door to meet their friend. 

"Your life would be much easier if you'd realize that I'm right most of the time," she said. 

"What would be the fun in that?" he asked. He yanked open the door, and as expected, it was Ron waiting outside. 

"About bloody time," said Ron. "What were you two doing?" He looked between the two of them. "Oh. Of course. Shagging the day away." He grinned slyly. "Had a good birthday, Hermione?" 

"Yes," she said. 

"Thought so. But you might want to give him a rest every now and then. You don't want to break him." Ron dodged Harry's mock-blow and stepped inside. "You're too predictable at times. You've got to do better than that to take me by surprise." 

"I'll remember that next time," Harry promised. 

"Yes, yes, I'm sure. Don't worry. I'm just here to give Hermione her present. Though I wouldn't be adverse to lunch if you've not eaten yet." All three of them made their way to the living room, where Hermione promptly sat down on the couch, with Harry taking the seat next to her. Ron raised an eyebrow at that and handed Hermione a small package. "Here. It's for you. I thought it might come in handy now." 

Hermione carefully ripped through the wrapping to reveal a book. "_Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Quidditch, But Were Too Stubborn To Ask_? Ron, only you'd give me something like this." 

"What? You don't like it?" Ron looked flabbergasted. "And here I thought you'd like a book to read." 

"Oh, I do, I do." As if to prove that, she propped open the book and began to read. "But most people get me spell books. Only you would get me one on Quidditch." 

He sniffed. "I thought that now you're dating the most famous Seeker in the world, it'd be good for you to know your terms." He glanced in Harry's direction. "Wonky Feint," he said. Both he and Harry started chuckling at that one. They had developed a sense of humor over the years over Hermione's incredible inability to never remember the name of that particular maneuver. 

"Gah!" Both men immediately turned their attention to Hermione, who was staring at horror at her new book. "There's a foul for attacking another player with an ax!" 

Harry exchanged a glance with Ron, before answering. "Yes, there is," he said. 

"You need one?" Hermione was shaking. 

"You think that it should be legal?" Ron asked. 

"No! Just that . . . someone could really get hurt! I can't believe that you'd need a rule for that!" 

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, well it's amazing what some people will try to get an edge." Hermione glared at him, and he put his hands up in apology. "Bad pun, yes, I know. But I wouldn't worry much about that one in particular, Hermione. It's obvious when people try to stick an ax under their robes." 

Harry nodded his agreement. "Especially when they accidentally cut themselves and are trailing blood, like that one—" 

"I do not want to hear that," said Hermione. "Do not make me hex you into silence." 

"Fine, fine," said Harry. 

"You know, it's times like these that I'm grateful that Hermione never took up Quidditch," Ron said. 

"Why?" Harry and Hermione both asked. 

"Because she'd be downright scary, with the spells she knows. She could just Transfigure herself an ax." 

"Ron! I'd never do that!" 

"Too bad," said Harry. 

"I know. It would have come in handy in any game against Slytherin," Ron added. 

Hermione stamped her foot. "You two are being impossible." 

"Come on, Hermione, we were only teasing," said Harry. He reached out to lift up her chin, so her eyes would meet his. "All in good fun." 

She continued to pout. 

And that was just too tempting. Especially when there was only one way to stop her from pouting. 

"No," said Ron firmly, before Harry could kiss Hermione senseless. "I know what you two are planning next, and you are not going to start snogging and Merlin knows what else in front of me. Not in your own flat especially. I've a better sense of self-preservation than that." He shuddered. "Quick affectionate kisses are one thing, but there are some things I'd rather not be subjected to. Come on. Let's go." He began herding them out the door. 

"Go where?" Hermione asked. 

"Out. To lunch. Because you have got to be more restrained when we're in public." 

"I don't know about that," said Harry, with a wicked grin. "Hermione was trying to get me to shag her in a Muggle bar last night." 

"Harry!" Hermione turned bright red. 

"Gah! I did _not _need to hear that!" Ron covered his ears. "That's it! We're going some place with lots of ickle kiddies. Even you two wouldn't be that shameless." The three friends continued out the door, laughing all the while and leaving behind that letter that Hermione had completely forgotten to answer.   


**Author's note:** That's it for this week. I hope you enjoyed it, and I'd appreciate it if you could leave a review to let me know what you think. Also, just for your information, there is an outtake between the last two chapters that I took out that might go up on my Y!Group later; it's still being edited but can't go here because of the rating. Once again, the next chapter should be posted next Friday. Finally, I'd like to thank **Shawn Pickett**, **Rebeca**, **Carolyn**, **Leah6** (yeah, I knew people would think that, but Hermione wasn't that eager to jump into bed. And still isn't really when she thinks about it), **LeslieGlady** (thanks, but sometimes it's hard enough just updating on Fridays), **SquorpionLady**, **Sheilalein **(trying to get Hermione to admit she wanted to win anything aside from the pool game is a hard proposition), **Scarlet Emma**, **Megan**, **augusam**, **ears91** (for me, writing angst is harder as I'm always afraid I'm making it too corny), **darkfairy905**, **sinta1**, **mikeus** (you just know he's going to break down in tears and cry), **Akshara**, **Brazilianfan**, **Pinku-koneko**, **kyc639** (while I'm not trying to scare you, I don't believe in happy endings. Just happy couples), **Fatima**, **lee74**, **Ramy**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **MasterDeath** (if the bunnies comment was a prediction for the next chapter, you were dead on), **Wirez**, **Blood57**, **Mistress Desdemona**, **Daintress** (yes, I feel bad for him to, but he's destined to remain single at the end of this fic. I think he'll get over it as he starts to enjoy the wonders of bachelorhood), **Dillon**, **TheWraith1** (Harry's too scared to talk to Hermione's dad directly, especially with what happened to Ron before), **TheSilverLady**, **Jen/Irish Dancing Girl**, **Izabel**, **myman-harry526**, **tearsofher**, **v-weasley** (I always think that I ned to give more detail! Thanks!), **Fire-bound heart** (there was suspense at the end of that chapter? *blinks* Where?), **EuphoniumGurl0**, **spacey-me90**, **danielerin** (I didn't but I can't post it here. And congrats on getting it right on Seasons! Finally, someone got it -- I thought it was obvious), **Lil-Frankie14**, **malu**, **stephen**, **hpfanmelissa**, **Star19**, **Amynoelle** (I think I've finally figured out how your username is pronounced -- two words right?), **liliacfrog**, **luvingRON*182hp**, **tOmLoVeR17**, **Psy-Girl**, **Kage Miko**, **Sam8** (Hermione will feel the aftereffects later as their carpeting isn't plush), **megan**, **sally**, **avada kedavra** (LOL! For the last fifteen chapters, people have been complaining that it's taking them too long. It was faster than Hermione wanted though), **HolyMotherofPearl**, **agent_honeydew**, **Crinos-X**, **TheKidWonder*LadyMistress**, **Disco Duck**, **Emma-Lee14** (Luna is still in Hogwarts, so that's not an option for Ron right now), and **elvenprincess17-imladris** for their reviews of the last chapter. Thanks so much! I enjoyed reading each and every one of them. 


	18. Chapter Eighteen : Process

  
**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Eighteen : Process**   


Hermione sat at her desk, waiting for the hammer to drop. Surprisingly, Malfoy didn't have any snide remarks to make when she first entered their office that morning, considering the fact that she cancelled on him on Saturday and then never answered him on Sunday. But then, Harry was very good at distracting her when he put his mind to it. 

She smiled, thinking of how everything had changed so quickly. It seemed like ages ago when she and Harry had been arguing. Now look at them. At the same time, however, some things had moved too quickly for her. She hadn't intend to sleep with him. The first night was one thing. Nothing had happened. They had simply shared a bed. The night after that was a different story. 

And that scared her. She had wanted to wait, to take her time. She knew that Harry didn't take it as seriously as she. She knew from personal experience that he was more willing to engage in casual sex than her, even with witches he barely knew. So she hadn't want them to make love so soon so that she could see how deeply he was committed to her. He said that he loved her – and she did not doubt that he thought so for he wouldn't lie to her about that – but that didn't mean that he actually did. It might be a combination of lust and affection instead. If that were the case, Hermione didn't know how she would ever mend her broken heart. 

What made the situation even more precarious was the fact that he hadn't been interested in her as long as she had been in him. He admitted it himself yesterday. He never really considered her romantically until very recently. That scared her. He could feel safe in her love and affection because he had it for so long. The same could not be said for her. He had only begun feeling that way about her, and rather suddenly to boot, and she was afraid that his fancying her would be transient, that it would pass like a phase of the moon. But his honesty was reassuring. At least he told her the truth about how long he had fancied her. If he had lied, Hermione would have been in a near-panic about what to do about the whole situation. 

But he hadn't. So maybe it would all work out. She should stop thinking about it as overanalyzing the situation wasn't going to do any good. 

That was especially true when she had Malfoy to contend with today. So far he had been giving her the silent treatment. He had said nary a word in greeting when she arrived that morning or when he had handed her some books to go over. It was getting a bit maddening. Hermione knew that he was upset with her, and frankly, she thought he had good reason to be. She'd rather that he explode at her now, so she could apologize, instead of drawing it out like this. 

Unless he was waiting for her to take the initiative. She supposed she owed him that much. Hermione doubted that he was interested in her in a romantic nature, though she knew Harry thought otherwise, but she thought that was only because he was jealous of the time she had spent with him. He was too sensible to fancy her. He had even said himself that dating a co-worker was a sure way to get into trouble. Hermione felt that was fortunate. She would be in a much more difficult position if he did fancy her. 

"Malfoy," she said. "I'm awfully sorry about not meeting you Saturday and not giving you much notice about it." Malfoy looked up from his desk, but didn't say a word. She pressed on. "I do hope you're not too upset with me." 

That got a response. "I'm not upset at you in the slightest, Hermione," he said. "By the way, you never received an owl from me yesterday, did you?" 

"What makes you say that?" she asked. 

"The fact that you never replied tells me that you didn't receive it . . . and that makes me suspect—" 

"No, no, I did get it. And I'm sorry for not replying. But something . . . something came up." Hermione could feel her face turning red. Dear Merlin. Something had come up. She couldn't believe she had said that. She desperately to end this conversation now, before she said anything else like that, but she couldn't see a way out. 

"I see," he drawled. "You did receive it . . . and then decided it wasn't important enough to answer. You did read the part about my inviting you to dinner last night to make up for not getting to see you on your birthday." He paused. "And happy belated birthday. I do hope it was lovely." 

"It was," she said. "Thank you for asking." 

He waved a hand lazily. "Don't mention it," he said. "If you have no plans for tonight, I can take you out to dinner as a late celebration if you would like," he offered. 

Hermione hesitated. She didn't want to go with him. She would rather spend her time with Harry at the moment. Hermione also knew that Harry wouldn't feel comfortable to know that she was continuing to spend so much time with Malfoy. Harry had nothing to worry about, and he ought to know that. But Hermione was well aware of the fact that knowing something and being able to not worry about it were two different things. She knew that this thing between them was too new for him to be completely at ease with her spending time with men he thought wanted her. Hermione didn't have any plans per se to limit her social life based on what Harry was fine with but . . . a relationship was all about compromise. Maybe in a couple months, if he was still jealous for no good reason, she would have accepted and hoped that he would get past it. However, she wanted to strengthen their relationship, to make it tighter and more secure. . . and spending the night with Malfoy was not to way to go about that. 

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm afraid I'm busy tonight." 

"I see." He turned back to his desk. "I thought as much, but I wanted to make the offer. It's good any time you feel like taking me up on it." 

And that response just made her feel guilty. If he had yelled at her or accused her of fawning over Harry, that would have been easier to take. But for him to so gracefully accept her refusal . . . it made her cringe with guilt. She had originally promised to go for dinner on Saturday with him, and she wound up breaking that promise, though for a very good reason. Hermione thought that there had to be a way to make amends. 

Suddenly, she was struck with the thought that perhaps it would be all right if all of them went out together. Surely, Harry couldn't worry about Malfoy trying to romance her if he was there with them. And if she invited Harry along, she'd ask Ron if he'd like to go as well, though that might be asking for trouble. She frowned. She thought that she could get the two of them to behave for one evening, so long as Malfoy didn't bait them. 

It was worth asking to see if he was willing. "Um . . ." she mumbled, trying to think of the best way to phrase this. "I don't know if you're interested, but if you'd like, how about Saturday?" He perked up. "I was thinking that you could spend some time with me and my friends—" 

His face fell at that, and his cold demeanor, that she hadn't seen for so long, returned. "I thought you didn't want to play peacemaker between me and those—" Hermione glared at him, stopping him in his tracks. 

"I don't," said Hermione shortly. "But it's kind of ridiculous for me to try to keep my work life and my home life completely separate. I was thinking that perhaps the four of us could go somewhere and see if everyone could get through the night without a hex being cast." 

"Somehow I doubt that," he muttered. 

"Do you doubt that, or do you mean that you're not willing to try?" she asked. 

"Tell you what, Granger. I will promise to be as polite to them as they are to me for the whole evening. How does that sound?" 

That sounded like a yes to her. Now all she had to do was to get Harry and Ron to promise to behave. "That sounds reasonable," she replied. "I'll ask them tonight." 

He looked in askance at her. "You mean you haven't already?" 

"No," she said. "It was just a spur of the moment thought I had. I would like it if the three of you could be in the same room, without me having to worry about an explosion being imminent." She smiled at him. "But you can mark your calendar for Saturday. I am positive they will agree." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

When Harry arrived home that evening, the aroma of spaghetti filled the air. He sniffed experimentally. He couldn't smell even the faintest wisp of smoke. That was a very good sign that he would find the kitchen in one piece. One piece that was more than a smoking ember, to be exact. Trotting into the kitchen, he found Hermione scooping some sauce over the pasta she had made. He smiled. It was rare to find Hermione being so domestic. Although that was not for lack of trying on her part. He was struck with the thought that he ought to be more supportive of her attempts to cook. 

"Hello, love," he said, dropping a kiss on her cheek. She turned around and hugged him, her face beaming with affection. 

"I've missed you," she declared. 

"Same here. It's been too long since I've seen you last," he replied. 

"I agree completely with that sentiment." She pointed at the plates. "Are you hungry? Do you want to eat?" 

"Am I hungry?" He raised an eyebrow at her question. "Hermione, I'm a growing boy who used up a lot of energy both yesterday and today. Do I need to answer that?" Hermione started laughing aloud at that, and he joined her. Something told him that phrase would bring a smile to their faces for quite some time to come. 

Dinner was excellent and very relaxing. It was nice to spend time alone with Hermione in the privacy of their own flat. Going out had its own charms, but they had spent the last two nights out, and Harry supposed he had got a bit tired of it. He always had to worry about being followed and photographed because of who he was. Harry didn't like the fact very much, but he had learned to live with it. Not gracefully at times, but then some people knew how to push his buttons. 

The only thing that stopped him from enjoying dinner entirely was the air that hung about the table. Harry had known Hermione for such a long time that he knew that there was something she wanted to discuss, but was afraid to broach. And he was afraid that he knew what that topic would be. And that was the fact that as far as he knew, they hadn't been very careful over the weekend. 

He should have known better. Harry thought that he should have known better than Hermione, as he had had more relationships than she had. Somehow, the thought that they would need to cast a spell before continuing had never crossed his mind. Maybe that first night it had been because it was so unbelievable that he and Hermione were finally happening that he didn't remember to take precautions. That wasn't an excuse, however. And since she was having such trouble broaching the topic, he supposed it was up to him to set her at ease as best he could. 

Sighing, he reached over to take her hand into his. "Hermione," he said. "I know you're worried . . . and I don't know how to say this but . . . well, I should've known better, should've known enough to take a step back and cast that damn spell . . . and whatever happens, I'll be by your side, you know." 

Hermione looked at him, confusion written all over her face. "Harry, what are you—" She blushed as she understood what he was trying to say. "Oh. That. I . . . uh . . . well, I've been on Muggle birth control for awhile now." His face soon matched hers for redness. "It really . . . really helps for other things and doesn't taste half as horrid as that awful potion." 

"Oh," he said. Now that made him feel stupid. Evidently, she had taken precautions a long time ago. 

"But I'm happy you . . . that you said what you said," she said quickly. "Really, I am. It's awkward, just to talk about it, and I . . . it really tells me that you care, the fact that you mentioned it." 

"Thanks," said Harry, still feeling flushed. He cleared his throat several times. "So if that wasn't bothering you . . . what was?" he went on to ask. 

"Well . . . I . . . please hear me out, okay?" He nodded solemnly. Hermione twiddled her thumbs before continuing. "I kind of . . . asked Malfoy if he'd like to go some place this weekend with us," she said. 

Harry blinked. "You what?" 

"I asked Malfoy if he would like to spend some time with you, me, and Ron this coming Saturday," she said again. "And he agreed." 

"I see." Harry leaned back in his seat. "It might have been nice if you had asked us first," he noted mildly. 

"I know, but I . . . well, I felt bad. I never answered his owl yesterday, on top of canceling Saturday so when I went to work, I fully expected him to be sore with me. But he wasn't. And that made me feel—" 

"Guilty, of course," Harry finished for her. That was typical Hermione. She felt guilty so she tried to make it up to Malfoy. Of course, Harry could feel some pity for the blond wizard. To Harry, it was as clear as day that Malfoy was interested in Hermione and to find out suddenly that she was no longer available must have come as a shock. Still, Harry had to wonder what Hermione was thinking trying to get him and Ron to spend any time with that ferret. 

He heaved a sigh. "If we don't go, will you still meet him?" he asked out of curiosity. He wanted to hear her say no, but he knew her better than that. She would feel very badly about it, but more likely than not, she would meet Malfoy alone for the weekend. 

"I . . ." she stammered. "I'd prefer for all of us to go. Or at least us two, if Ron won't agree. I do want you to be with me." She bit her lip. "And can't you find it in you to feel sorry for him? In a blink of an eye, everything in his life has changed. His family fortune is all but lost, with his mother trying to spend her way through the last of it. He has to work for a living, unlike his father, who didn't have to work if he didn't want to." 

"The last time I checked, we all had our problems getting into the flow of things in the real world once we left Hogwarts," Harry pointed out. "Look at how long it took both of us to find jobs." 

"Yes, I suppose so," Hermione said. "But . . . I know this is hard to believe, as I wouldn't believe it myself if I didn't see it. He is trying, Harry, to be a better person. And being raised the way he was and the world changing for him like it has . . . that can't be easy. And I thought maybe we could help a little bit by spending a bit of time with him." She paused. "That might improve his reputation." 

"I hope you don't expect us to become the best of friends, Hermione," said Harry. "There's been too many things said, too many—" 

"Too many arguments, too many hexes thrown for that." She added softly, "And that's the same reason why there could never be anything more between myself and Malfoy." 

"I know." Harry wondered what he should say. He didn't want to go, in all honesty, but he didn't want to leave Hermione alone with Malfoy, even though he knew that she wouldn't let anything happen. He was a bit miffed with her for making such plans, but this was Hermione he was talking about. She was always looking for a way to better the world, from her own personal life to items on a grander scale, like S.P.E.W. And he supposed it was a bit unpleasant for her to know that her boyfriend and best friend despised the wizard she had to work with. 

"You know I don't want to go," he told her at last. 

"I know." She slumped down in her seat. 

"But I will. Because you asked," he said. She brightened at his words. He raised a hand to stop her from thanking him. "On one condition though." 

"And that is?" she asked. 

"Since you got to chose who to invite, I get to chose where we go." 

She nodded. "That sounds fair. So where do you want to go?" 

"A karaoke bar," he said, grinning. He always wanted to try that. Besides, between his singing and Ron's, they might be able to drive Malfoy away. It was a good compromise to make, 

Hermione groaned. "A karaoke bar? Harry, I've heard you trying to sing in the shower." 

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm much better when I have a prompt for the words." 

"Have you gone before?" 

"No. But I'm sure I won't be as bad as you think." 

"If you say so," she said doubtfully. "And it is fair . . . since I chose to invite Malfoy, that you get to chose where we go. Though I don't know of any places off hand." 

"That's fine. I'll find out." He grinned broadly. "I have other research to do anyway." 

"True that." Her brow wrinkled and Harry knew what she was going to ask next. 

"Let me guess. You want me to get Ron to come along," he said. 

"Yes," she said, startled that he had been able to guess that. "How did you know?" 

"Because you've asked me before to break bad news about Malfoy to him." 

"Is it really bad news? That I promised we'd spend a couple hours with him?" she asked. 

"Well, there are far worse things to hear, but it's not something I'd decide to do on my own." He looked directly at her. "I'm doing this for you, Hermione. I'll try to be polite, but if he's snide, then all bets are off." 

"He's promised the same thing," she said quickly. 

"Good. But like I said, I'm doing this for you. So I'll ask Ron." 

"Thank you," she said. She bent forward to kiss him. "And I know you're not happy about this, and I'm sorry . . . but it's something that I thought I should do. Because I really do hate breaking promises." 

"I know," he said. "You wouldn't be the witch I loved if you didn't feel that way." She smiled shyly at him. "But where do you plan to be when I'm telling Ron about this?" 

"I thought you could talk to him tomorrow when I'm at my parents' house," she said. Harry shuddered at the mention of her parents. He would hate to meet Mr. Granger in a dark alley alone at night. "I know, last weekend wasn't easy on you. And I thought I'd best talk to my dad about it . . . I'd prefer for the two men I love the most to get along, you know. And if I'm asking you to do something difficult, I should be doing the same." 

"That sounds fine with me." _Especially as it gives me an excuse to not meet Hermione's dad again so soon_, Harry thought privately_. That's one good thing about this plan of hers. Although there's actually two good things . . . the fact that she's said she wants to be with me. How could a bloke not be happy to hear that?_   


**Author's note:** That's all for this chapter, and the next one will be up next Friday. I hope everyone enjoyed reading this one, and I would appreciate it if you could let me know what you think. Finally, thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **Shawn Pickett**, **Rebeca**, **ExcalibursZone** (thanks! am glad you liked it), **shaznay17**, **lee74**, **Ramy**, **Fatima**, **Disco Duck** (why not Hermione? ^_~), **Silverfoot**, **Sam8**, **Euphoniumgurl0**, **myman-harry526**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **avada kedravra**, **ears91**, **Wirez**, **Jen/Irish Dancing Girl**, **stephen**, **Amynoelle** (yes, they are rather like bunnies right now, but they're still in their honeymoon period, so to speak. They'll stop eventually), **Kage Miko** (I think they're totally screwed even without Draco ^_~), **Big Fat Beluga**, **Leah6**, **Orlando's Gurl**, **TheSilverLady**, **malu** (*cough* Harry's a teenaged boy, so that explains his recovery time stamina), **danielerin**, **tOmLoVeR17**, **blondi gurl**, **HermionePotter17**, **tearsofher** (he kind of does have feelings for Hermione, but he won't admit it now), **Korine** (Thanks! Writing a together H/Hr is more fun than the alternatives ^_~ And am glad you liked that extra cookie), **Quis**, **Izabel**, **koishii-glory**, **spacey-me90**, **Sheilalein** (there's still one major plot point to cover, so this fic will take a little longer to be over than you might think. And it's not about Draco), **Wytil** (he can't get in, though Harry would be more than happy to hex him if he appeared), **Fire-bound heart**, **juliet's rose**, **xxbabysparklesxx**, **hpfanmelissa**, **LeslieGlady** (he's not going to throw a tantrum about it. He's not happy, but he's not going to show how much it affects him), **Field-99**, **elvenprincess17-imladris**, **Star19**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, and **PrincessME**. I really enjoyed reading everything you had to say about it. ^_^ Thanks once again! 


	19. Chapter Nineteen : Naked Mind

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Nineteen : Naked Mind**   


Ron knew something was up. For one, he hadn't expected to see Harry and Hermione apart so soon after they finally got together. He had expected the two of them to be joined at the hip. For them to be out of sight of each other when they weren't working was very suspicious indeed. Merlin knew that despite her well-known fear of Quidditch, she had shown up unexpectedly at Harry's latest practice, if you believed everything you heard on Wizarding Wireless (and he was inclined to believe that bit of news). From all reports, that had been one steamy snog session indeed. 

Though perhaps it would be a good idea to confirm that with a reliable source. "So I heard Hermione dropped by to see you this afternoon?" Ron asked in between bites of fish and chips. 

A goofy look spread across Harry's face. "Yeah. She did." 

Okay, evidently it had been more than a snog session, if Harry's reaction was anything to go by. Ron cringed at that mental image. He didn't want to think of his best friends going at it like that. There were some things that he was happier not knowing. "Okay," said Ron. "That's enough of an answer for me." 

"I wasn't going to go into any detail," Harry said. He crossed his arms. "Some things are meant to be private." 

"That is exactly my point." Ron looked around. "So where is Hermione? I thought she'd be here with you, especially if she's even visiting you at work." The shifty eyed look on Harry only confirmed Ron's suspicions. 

"She's visiting her parents," Harry said. 

"She is?" Ron hadn't thought she would be doing that. And if she was, what was Harry doing here with him? Wouldn't it be better for her to try to play peacemaker between Harry and her dad? Though her dad was probably not inclined to see reason on this point. "So why are you here?" Ron asked. "I thought you'd be with her if she went to see her parents." 

"She told me not to. Said that she needs to have a talk with her dad before she lets me visit them again, because last Saturday was damn uncomfortable. I could tell he was thinking of the most painful way to kill me the whole time I was there." Harry shuddered. "I was never so glad to leave that house behind, and I'd be happy to not have to go there again for at least another year." 

"I doubt that will happen, mate." 

"Yeah. It won't. So that's why I think it's good that Hermione's going by herself this time to see if she can get her dad to promise not to kill me on sight." 

"Did she really use those words?" 

"Not exactly. I don't think she realizes how much he has it out for us." 

"I agree with you there." Ron took a bite of his food. Still chewing, he added, "Well, I'm glad to hear that you've that reason for not being together. For a moment there, I thought you only invited me here because there was something you wanted from me." Ron inwardly cheered in victory as a look of contrition came over Harry. Taking them by surprise was always the best way to go. 

"Actually . . ." Harry started. "I do have one, small favor to ask." 

"Imagine that." Ron finished off the last of his chips, licking his fingers clean. "Well, go on. No need to beat around the bush. Tell me." 

"I . . . that is, we were wondering if you'd come with us Saturday night." 

"And the catch is?" Ron asked. 

"How do you know there's a catch?" 

"Because if there wasn't, you two would have no problem asking your best friend to do something with them on the weekend. But since you've been so secretive about it, there must be a catch," Ron said. 

"Yeah, there is one," Harry admitted. "Hermione invited Malfoy to come spend a bit of time with all three of us on Saturday," he said frankly. 

"She did? That's a bloody excellent idea!" Ron exclaimed. "Tell me, did you plan that one or did it just fall into your lap?" Harry gaped at Ron, as though he couldn't believe his reaction. That meant that this particular opportunity must have be presented to Harry, that lucky bastard. He didn't know a good thing when he saw one. 

"I . . . you think this is a good idea?" Harry finally managed to say. 

"I didn't say good, I said excellent. Look.." Ron motioned towards Harry, bending his head closer so he could speak in a lower voice. "You've been thinking that prat Malfoy is interested in Hermione, right?" 

"Yeah." 

"So this is a perfect chance to see whether or not your suspicions are right. And you don't have to sneak around, hiding behind potted plants, to see if he's after Hermione. Hermione wants you to be there. Like I said, it's brilliant." 

"And here I thought I'd have a hard time convincing you to come along," said Harry. 

"Not at all," Ron said airily. "Two sets of eyes are better than one, and you might spend too much time looking at Hermione instead." He glanced sternly at his friend. "And I hope looking is all you're going to do because I don't want to see a repeat performance of last weekend." 

"Take that up with Hermione. She jumped me, not the other way around, and I'm not the type of bloke to refuse his girlfriend's affections." 

"Don't worry, I will. I'll say something along the lines that if I have to get dragged along, then at least I shouldn't have to deal with the two of you acting like . . . actually, no." Ron grimaced. "I will deal with that. Because we can see how Malfoy reacts to that as well. Or rather, I will see as I'd rather be watching his ugly mug than you two when you're snogging." 

"What will we do if I'm right?" Harry asked, but not unexpectedly. Ron knew that question would come up. 

"First off, there's a good chance that you're wrong. Hermione is a bright witch, so she probably knows when someone is interested in her. Now I admit she might be in denial, because she can't believe it, but I think she could tell," said Ron. "Also, think of the type of git Malfoy is. Do you think he wouldn't try to kiss Hermione if he was really interested in her? Especially if he's had several dinner dates with her before?" Harry shook his head no at that question. "Right. And if he tried, Hermione couldn't deny that he wants her and she still is and therefore, he must not have tried snogging her. Which can be construed as a sign that he doesn't fancy her." 

"But what if all that . . . what if on Saturday night, it appears he does fancy her?" 

"Then you know for sure that he does," said Ron. 

"I don't see how that helps." 

"It helps to know what you're up against. Trust me on this one, Harry. At least you'll know that he fancies her, and you can figure out from there where to go. I can tell you this. If he does, you can't go and tell Hermione that you don't want her to see him anymore. Do that and she's liable to break up with you." 

"I know," said Harry. He slumped down, looking defeated already. "I wish . . . I wish that she would stop being friendly with him for my sake, but she's likely to take that sentiment the wrong way." He sighed. "Maybe one day, she'll understand but . . . " 

"She will, mate. She's a bright witch, like I said. And she won't do as you want, but she'll do everything else in her power to let you know that you are the one." When his friend didn't perk up from that reassurance, he continued. "The fact that she visited you at practice today should tell you something about how much she loves you. She hates having to watch Quidditch. She used to go nutters watching matches at Hogwarts, or so I hear." 

"I know." A smile was back on Harry's face. "She came this afternoon because she said she couldn't stand the idea of not being able to see me until much later this afternoon." 

Ron mentally winced at that double-entendre, but repressed his urge to gag. "See? She loves you. You need to believe it more. Malfoy doesn't have a chance against you." 

"Thanks." 

"Don't mention it." Ron reached for his mug of Butterbeer and took a swig out of it. "By the way, where are we going? You never told me that." 

"Oh. I told Hermione that I got to pick where we went, and I chose karaoke." 

"Great! I've wanted to try that for awhile now, mate!" Ron was beginning to get excited about Saturday's expedition. He had wanted to try that out since Harry had whinged one summer about having to listen non-stop to Dudley's horrendous renditions of Spice Girls' songs. Ron had asked what Harry had meant and had been fascinated with the whole concept from then on. 

"I knew that. That's why I chose that. I thought it'd be easier to get you to come along." He grinned ruefully. "Though I guess you didn't need it." 

"No, you didn't, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same." He couldn't wait until Saturday. Being able to see Malfoy and Hermione together without Hermione getting made AND getting to finally try out karaoke made it seem like Saturday was going to be one fun-filled day. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

"So where's Harry this time?" Hermione's dad asked by way of greeting. 

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Nice to see you too, Dad," she replied, dropping a kiss on his cheek. "What's for dinner?" 

"Paella. And is Harry coming along later?" He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Hermione winced. She was glad Harry had went with Ron instead, as her dad was probably looking at ways to get back at him, even though her dad didn't know the whole story behind them. 

"No, it's just me tonight." Hermione walked through the hallway and into her parents' kitchen, leaving her father no choice but to follow. She wondered how she would manage to bring her father around to giving Harry another chance. "Hi Mum," Hermione said upon seeing her mother in the kitchen. "How are you?" 

"I'm fine." Her mother examined her critically. "And you look to be more than fine, dear." 

"I am," she replied. "Though I confess to being famished." 

"That's your cue, love," her mum told her dad. 

"I know, I know. Give me a second." He headed towards the counter, where Hermione could see that the food was already ready for consumption. That was good. She really was starving, especially after all the energy she had consumed when she had visited Harry earlier that day. "Here you are," said her dad, setting a plate in front of her. "Go on. Dig in. I can continue to grill you while you're eating." 

"Thanks." Hermione stuffed a fork into the food and brought it to her mouth. It was delicious as always. "And that was subtle. Though you lost all hope of being subtle with the way you greeted me," she told her dad. 

He shrugged. "I saw no point in trying to be tactful—" 

"Or rather, I told him there was no point in him being tactful because he wasn't that last weekend," her mother put in. She bit her lip, and Hermione knew that her mum was trying to find the right way to say what she wanted to say. "Hermione, I know you're now an adult and all – and a very responsible one at that – but I have to agree with your father here. I think that you don't know what you're getting yourself into, being with Harry like that." She paused to take a breath. "There's a line between friendship and love, and trying to stay right on the edge of it isn't healthy." 

Hermione quickly finished swallowing her food. "No, Mum, it's not like that. We're not just . . ." she stuttered. Damn, this was embarrassing. How could Mum think such a thing? "We aren't just together for kicks," she finally said. "We love each other, we really do. And I think it's going to be forever." 

"In my experience forever isn't very long for someone as young as you," her dad countered sharply. He motioned her to silence as he noticed her opening her mouth to protest. "And how do you know that Harry feels the same way?" 

"Because he's said as much," Hermione said. "And he wouldn't lie to me about that, so don't even suggest that." 

Her parents exchanged a speaking glance, and her dad waved her mother on. "Of course not," her mum. "I always thought that Harry was a lovely boy, and a very honest one to boot. But even . . . even if he's said that and meant that, how do you know he really means that? You both are so young. You have no concept of what it means to be together for always. And your heart may stay constant but that's no guarantee that his will do the same." 

Hermione glowered at both her parents. They weren't saying anything she didn't already know. However, she had decided to put her trust in Harry, and she wasn't going to doubt him until he proved her wrong. "Are you suggesting that I break up with Harry now simply because he might break up with me later?" she asked. "Because if you are, that is the stupidest idea I've ever heard from you!" 

"No, we're not saying that," her dad said. "Actually, I can't speak for your Mum, but I think you should break up with him because he has already broken your heart. No . . . don't lie to me. I left you alone when you arrived here suddenly, but we both could hear you crying your heart out. And it doesn't take a genius to figure out who had done the damage." 

"I have to agree with your father here. How can you trust this boy when he has already hurt you so much?" 

"This isn't just some boy we're talking about. This is Harry. And yes, he has hurt me in the past – for which he has apologized – but then I've done the same. I've done some incredibly stupid things myself. And I apologized for that." 

"This doesn't seem to be leading anywhere," her dad said. "If anything you're proving my point that the two of you aren't good for each other." 

"I wasn't finished," Hermione said, glaring at her father. "My point is that we've decided to put that behind us, to try to work things out together so our relationship will last. And I think it will. No, that's not right – I believe it will. And he does too. We've been through too much together – he's saved my life several times, and he says I've done the same for him – that there's no way that we'll fail. Especially if we trust one another, believe in one another and what we share." She lifted her chin stubbornly. "And there is nothing that you can say to make me not believe." 

Her mum placed a hand on her dad's arm, as if restraining him. "If that's the case, then all we can do is support you . . . and promise to be here for you in case your wrong. Right, dear?" Her father nodded as her mother squeezed his arm. 

"And how about giving him another chance?" Hermione boldly asked. "Which means you don't look as if you're looking for an excuse to try out your new set of knives out on him," she said directly to her dad. 

"Hermione!" Her dad looked insulted. "I am not a violent man!" Hermione merely glared at him. "Besides, I wouldn't do that. You can tell Harry he's safe from any of all my knives." He paused. "Your mother would kill me if I destroyed the carpeting like that." 

"Dad!" 

"Robert!" 

"It's true," he said. "She would." 

Her mum sighed. "Your father is immensely stubborn, much like yourself. But he will try, won't you dear?" The stare she leveled at him was truly frightening. Her dad nodded vigorously, and Hermione knew that her task had been accomplished. 

Now perhaps she could begin to enjoy her dinner.   
  


**Author's note:** That's all for this week. I hope you liked it, and I'd be very happy if you'd let me know what you think by leaving a review. Finally, thank you to **Shawn Pickett**, **danielerin**, **Rebeca**, **Carolyn**, **Leah6 **(currently, I have no plans to break them up), **lee74**, **Duke-of-Argyle**, **ExcalibursZone**, **LeslieGlady**, **Sheilalein**, **SilverFoot **(who says Harry will get the time to show Hermione that?), **myman-harry526**, **Wytil** (I think they'll all be bad, but someone will deny it), **Fire Lily**, **Fatima**, **sweetheart87**, **thekidwonder*ladymistress**, **Pickels**, **lil-frankie14**, **elvenprincess17-imladris**, **Sarmi**, **xxbabysparklesxx**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **Amynoelle**, **juliet's rose**, **hpfanmelissa** (I do? *cough* Haven't noticed. Though I must admit I think the ending for the next chapter is loads of fun. ^_~ ), **Jen/Irish Dancing Girl**, **Kage Miko**, **spacey-me90**, **malu** (of course, Ron might look at it differently than Harry. Though if Draco tried to hit on Hermione, he might beat Harry to the hex), **Anna Morgan**, **ears91**, **luvingRON*182hp**, **Joe**, **SquorpionLady**, **telmie**, **Izabel**, **RoqueBHS**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Ramy**, **harry_lover_29**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **Dizzy2381**, **sally**, and **Tiffie101** for their reviews of the last chapter. ^_^ I had fun reading what everyone wrote. Thanks once again!   



	20. Chapter Twenty : I Can't

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Twenty : I Can't**   


Hermione winced as Ron missed another note. Introducing Ron to karaoke was a crime, and she was going to complain mightily to Harry once they were alone. It was his fault that they were having to go through this trial. Ron was beyond awful. There were no words to describe how bad he was at singing. Though Hermione wasn't sure if she should call it singing, as it didn't really resemble that at all. It was more like a cross between wailing and yodeling. The fact that he was so enthusiastic as well didn't help matters. Hermione didn't know if she wanted to cry from the sheer pain of it all or laugh at how bad her friend was. 

Across the table, she could see Malfoy doing his best not to cover his ears with his hands, and she felt a stab of pity for him. Karaoke would not have been her first choice, as it was damn hard to be polite to Ron when he was this bloody awful. She decided to put Malfoy out of his misery. "You know, in this instance, I hardly think it would be rude if you did cover your ears," she said. "Right, Harry?" She elbowed him to get him to speak up and agree. 

"Huh? What?" He blinked rapidly. "I'm sorry, love, but I was trying to think of a way to blow up the karaoke speaker discreetly." 

"I hope you figure that out soon, Potter," Malfoy said with a grimace as Ron went searching for a high note and completely missed it. "I'm about to do that without worrying about being discreet." 

"You do that, and I'll take care of the Memory Charms," Harry offered. Hermione held back a smile. It seemed that all it took to get Harry and Malfoy to speak to one each other was for them to face a common enemy – in this case, Ron's singing. Who would have thought it would be so easy? Though they weren't friendly exactly. Hermione could sense the tension in the air and in the way, Harry possessively held her by the waist, as if trying to show Malfoy that he had a prior claim on her. She sighed inwardly. It was nice to know that Harry wanted her and was possessive and jealous about it – but it had the potential to get old. She hoped that this evening would convince him once and for all that Malfoy and her were merely being friendly because they had to work together. 

His round finished, Ron bounced back to their table. "This is the best thing ever!" he declared. "Hermione, you've got to give it a go." Hermione glared at him, but he didn't take the hint. "Come on, don't be a spoilsport. You're the only one who hasn't. Even Malfoy here has tried it once." 

"Thanks, but no thanks," she said. "The only thing I'm worse at than cooking is singing. I wouldn't want to inflict such pain on you." 

"Please do," she heard Harry mutter under his breath. 

"Can't be worse than the Weasel," Malfoy added softly. 

"What was that? Are there some complaints about my singing?" Ron looked shocked. Hermione speculated whether or not he could hear how he sounded. His shock seemed to be artless. "I guess I'll have to win you over by performing again. A love song that will be dedicated to my favorite pair of lovebirds." He bowed grandiosely in Harry and Hermione's direction. 

"That's not necessary," Harry said quickly. 

"Really, it's not," Hermione added. "And it seems like we've hardly been able to talk to you this evening." But it was too late. Ron was already heading back to the stage, after stopping to take a gander at the list of songs they kept. Hermione groaned. She had an awful idea of what might happen next. "Harry, this is all your fault," she said, leaning her head into his shoulder. 

"Hey! You should have overruled me." 

"But I promised not to." 

"Why is it Potter's fault?" Malfoy asked curiously. 

"Because he chose this place." 

"Only because I knew Ron wanted to try it out," Harry said, defending himself. 

"In this instance, I think it would have been better to let him always wonder about the joys of . . . whatever the hell you call this torture," Malfoy noted. 

"I hate to admit it, but you're right," said Harry. 

"And what will we do if Ron wants to do this again next weekend?" Hermione asked. 

"Don't even think about that!" 

"Do not invite me. Please. For the sake of my sanity," Malfoy said. 

"Malfoy, I don't want to invite myself if that happens," Hermione told him. "Harry, I don't suppose your next Quidditch match is next weekend, is it? Because we ought to make plans now, just in case." 

"No, it's the Tuesday after," he said. "How about a movie instead? Just the two of us could go." 

"Is that a formal request for a date?" she asked playfully. 

"Do you want it to be one?" 

"What do you think?" She winked at him. 

"I don't know. Maybe you could be a bit more clear about your intentions—" That was as far as Harry got because Hermione could no longer resist the urge she had to kiss him. She couldn't help herself. She loved him and being with him and being able to talk to him in public like this. She was never happier than when she was with him. 

"Ugh! I leave you two alone for one minute, and you're snogging. Again. Can't you keep your hands to yourselves?" Ron had returned to their table, having finished signing up for a later set. "And to think that I was encouraging you by dedicating a song to you! What was I thinking?" Harry and Hermione shared a glance, each of them suppressing the mirth they felt. Ron singing to them was hardly encouragement. 

"Who knows, Weasley?" Malfoy said. He stood up. "And I hate to cut this short as I've been enjoying myself so much, but I have to run. I just remembered that there's no one to have dinner with my mum tonight. So if you'll excuse me." He nodded to them all before departing. 

"You know, with the way he left, you'd think that he didn't like my singing," said Ron. 

"I can't imagine why," Harry said dryly. "I've not heard anyone who can sing quite like you." Hermione bit her lip. Harry was being completely truthful, but he had to have   
known that Ron was going to take that the wrong way. 

"Thanks!" He beamed at them. "What do you say we do this again next weekend?" 

"We have plans," Hermione told him, thankful that they had made them before he suggested that. When Ron's face fell, she felt guilty. He was really having fun, even though it was hard to have to listen to him. It wasn't his fault that his singing was appalling. Thinking quickly, she went on, "But there's no reason why you can't go without us." 

"Wouldn't be the same. Not as much fun without you two." 

"You could invite your family," Harry said. "I know your dad was curious too, and if you like it, I'm sure the twins will have a blast." 

"Though you might not want to invite Percy," Hermione said. 

"Not unless he was dead drunk," Harry added. 

Ron considered that. "That's a good idea. It could become a weekly Weasley tradition!" The grin returned to his face. "Can you imagine that?" 

"Yes," Hermione said. "The Wizarding world won't be quite the same afterwards." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

All week, Harry had been impatient for Saturday to roll around. The truth was that when he had suggested going to the theatre last weekend, there was a movie that he wanted to take Hermione out to. Not because he was particularly excited about it, but because it was reputed to be scary. And that was a good thing for a movie date, from what he heard. He was looking forward to Hermione jumping up in her seat and grabbing his arm out of fear. If you had told him even two years ago that he would miss her grabbing his arm tightly when something frightened him, he would have thought you were nutters and in need of a trip to St. Mungo's. But he did miss it, and once he had suggested the film, he could hardly wait until they went. However, he had made one serious miscalculation. 

That was the fact that Hermione was too sensible to be frightened by a scary movie. 

So it was that instead of listening to her shriek and feeling her latch on to his arm, he got to listen to her commentary on how the blonde girl was a complete idiot and how the brunette deserved a Darwin award for leaving her house without making a stop for a butcher knife despite the frightening noises she had heard outside. It was horrible. The one time that Harry had went to the loo, he received pitying glances from all the other men there. Harry could hear them thinking that he was the poor bloke with the girlfriend who was snarky, not clingy during the movie. The grand finale only brought a snort from Hermione, who proceeded to dissect the scene line by line to show how ridiculous and illogical the hero's actions were. 

Harry hoped she didn't think of how he defeated Voldemort at night and give him marks for how well he thought everything out. Because he hadn't really been thinking then of much of anything except how to stay alive for one minute longer. He shuddered to remember that night. It was over at least, and he could get on with the rest of his life. He didn't intend to ruin it by dwelling on might-have-beens. That had already dominated most of his childhood, and he was ready to move on. 

After the movie was over, Hermione suggested that they walk home, as it was still relatively warm. Harry agreed, and they set off towards their flat. When they had gone some distance from the theatre, Harry said, "I'm sorry you didn't like the movie, Hermione." 

"What? You think I didn't like it?" She glanced at him to see if he was serious. "I loved it, Harry. It was a great pick." 

"You did?" 

"It was hilarious. They were all so stupid. I could hardly restrain my laughter. If we watched it at home, I wouldn't have bothered, but I know people tend to get hacked off at me when I start laughing like a hyena in the theatre." She reached out to hold his hand. "Didn't you know I love scary movies? I thought that was why you thought of seeing this one." 

"I couldn't tell from the way you were dissecting it," he replied. 

"Oh that." She waved a hand, dismissing her commentary as evidence of her aversion for the movie. "You can't take these films seriously, Harry. How can you? There often are immense loopholes in them that you could drive a herd of hippogriffs through. But if you take it with a grain of salt, they're really enjoyable. Although it would be nice to have a smart girl in it for once. The fact that they're without fail idiots is getting on my nerves." 

"I think that's because if they had a girl like you who used her brains in the film, it would fall apart because she'd solve all the mysteries within a minute of being introduced." 

"Harry. That's sweet." She kissed him on his lips, and he was disappointed when she drew back. He pouted at her, but she didn't give in. "We're not that far away from our flat," she said. "Better to wait before starting something we can't finish out here." 

There she went again, putting her mind to good use. She had a point for Harry would have hated to break things off to wait until they got home. He quickened his step, tugging her along, and she willingly followed. He grinned. Evidently, she was eager to get back home where they had some privacy as well. 

Once back home, they quickly ensconced themselves on the couch, with Hermione laying slightly on top of Harry as they exchanged long, slow kisses. Hermione sighed in pleasure and hearing that made him want her. Bad. He shifted under her, and her eyes lit up when she realized what she was feeling. 

"Someone's feeling a bit frisky this evening, isn't he?" she said, wriggling against him. He moaned at the sensation. Hermione could be such a tease when she wanted him. Though that only turned him on even more. He reached for her skirt, intent on getting it and her knickers off, but she batted his hands away. "Not yet," she said. "I want to talk." 

"About what?" 

"About us." 

"Wouldn't you rather experience us?" he asked suggestively. 

"We'll get to that soon enough." She sighed. "Though sometimes I—" 

"What is it?" he asked, alarm rising up in him. "Do you regret that we—" 

"I don't regret anything about us," she told him decisively. "Nothing at all. But sometimes, I . . . I want to take it slow, you know?" 

Intellectually, Harry could appreciate what Hermione was saying but it was difficult for him to carry that out. One could say that it was hard for him, but that was a word that he would rather avoid in this situation, apt as though it might be. He willed himself to calm down. If she wanted them to take their time, then that was what they were going to do. It'd be more enjoyable in the end, the longer they prolonged it. And that was worth it, no matter how hard . . . difficult it may be. 

Thinking that a bit of conversation might help to distract him, he said, "There's one thing I've always wondered . . ." 

"And that is?" 

"Why don't you have a nickname? Don't get me wrong, I like your name, but I'd think growing up you'd acquire one. It isn't the easiest one to figure out how to pronounce." 

"Oh, people tried, especially some of my classmates. But they weren't very nice names at all. I'd prefer to forget them." She frowned, leading Harry to rub her back, trying to pull the tension out of her. "I hated my name when I was younger. It set me apart and made me more different than I already was. People didn't like it that I was much brighter than them, and they used it to tease me." 

"I'm sorry," he said and he was. He hadn't intended to bring up any bad memories. 

"Why? It's not your fault," she said sensibly. "Later on, I grew to love it, and the history behind it. Whenever people – especially adults – tried to give me a nickname, I would tell them it was disrespectful and give them a lecture about how much my full name means to me. And it does mean a lot to me. It's what my parents had dreamed of calling their little girl, all those years that they hoped for a child. I don't want anyone to shorten it." 

"Not even me?" Harry asked. 

"Especially not you." Hermione regarded him sternly. "Whenever they tried, people tended to take off the first part of my name . . . and Harry, I don't want to hear you screaming about your knee when we're shagging." 

He winced. "I didn't think about it like that." 

"Trust me. I did. And it's only fair because I can hardly give you a nickname." 

"No, you can't." 

"Not unless I call you 'Har' for short." Hermione's lips twisted up into a smile. "That might be amusing if I preface it with a 'bad.'" 

"Ha ha ha. Very funny." 

"I thought so. What's your middle name?" 

"You don't know?" 

"You never told me," she said. "Maybe that's more amenable to inspiring a nickname." 

"I doubt that. It's James, after my dad," he told her. To his surprise, she started laughing. "Okay. I didn't think it was funny." 

"No, no. It's not that," she said, through tears of mirth and great, big gasps for air. "It's that my middle name is Jane. We match." 

"You're right. We do!" Harry said excitedly. "Our initials are the same." 

"No, they're not. We're a letter off—" 

"Oh right." Oops, he had been thinking that they were completely the same but that wasn't the case. Yet. Because he was intending on marrying this witch. "I was thinking that all three were the same because—" 

She flushed, having figured out what Harry must have been thinking. "No, they're not. Not yet, though maybe one day . . ." 

"Maybe?" He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Do you think that—" 

"No, no," Hermione said. "I think we'll always be together. I was . . . you haven't . . . we're too—" But Hermione didn't get the chance to finish her explanation. 

Harry didn't know how or why it happened, but as Hermione was speaking, she suddenly vanished into thin air.   


**Author's note:** I'm updating a bit early this week, and I hope no one minds. And yes, I had to stop there. Anyone who writes fic will understand that. ^_~ The next update will be at the usual time. I would love it if you could leave me a review and let me know what you think of this chapter. Finally, I would like to thank **Rebeca**, **Shawn Pickett**, **danielerin**, **juliet's rose **(I hope you found this chapter interesting as well), **ExcalibursZone **(well, it's less than a week this time, but more next time), **jennymay**, **Pickels**(actually, by word count, that last chapter was longer than most), **Star19**, **Fire-bound heart**, **shaznay17** (from Mr. Granger's point of view, Harry deserves extra pain because girls like Hermione think he's hot), **Amynoelle**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **Kage Miko **(lots of people are, but I don't think his reasoning was too off), **LuluIsALobster**, **Izabel** (Harry could care less about that right now), **xxbabysparklesxx**, **lee74**, **Lil-frankie14**, **Leah6**, **megan**, **Lucki Me** (all I can say is that they're about to move past their honeymoon stage, but no disasters, sudden prophecies, or tragedies are involved ^_~ ), **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Fatima** (am glad you did), **Eric MacRorie**, **myman-harry526**, **Velvetrose786**, **hpfanmelissa**, **Ramy**, **spacey-me90** (I have no idea how much longer this will be, but I've just reached the final plot point), **NecroLord**, **malu** (unfortunately, Ron provided too much of a distraction for them to carry out their plans), **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **Vita T.** (no, Ginny is still in school and has a boyfriend, though who knows what will happen in ten years time?), **augusam**, **sally**, **Sheilalein** (I can, though I should clarify I only said the last thread is not about Draco but it will include Draco interaction simply because I can't have him leave the fic. Well, aside from a horrific incident involving a falling piano, but who wants that?), **Blood57**, and **johnmenefee21 **for their reviews of the previous chapter. ^_^ It's always a nice treat when I open up my email to read reviews.   
  



	21. Chapter Twenty One : Dive

  
**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Twenty One : Dive**   


There were times when he thought he should give up. He was only fooling himself. He wasn't getting anywhere, if he was to be honest with himself. It was depressing, and it made him wonder why he bothered to go on living. People were always talking about how things had improved ever since Potter defeated You-Know-Who, but he didn't see a change. The only thing different really was the fact that Purebloods were looked down upon as a bunch of inbred idiots. Their fall in status didn't even improve the treatment of Muggle-borns, who were still looked upon with suspicion by wizards who had even one magical parent. 

And as for his own particular case, he didn't see much hope for anything at all. At first, he had thought that he would have to change along with the world. He didn't very much like the idea, and he had felt that he was betraying everything he had ever known before, but he was a Slytherin and the thing they did best of all was survive. He knew that his father, if faced with the same situation, would have made the choice that he had. His father would have sneered while doing so and railed against the necessity of such a decision in private, but in the end, he would have done what was needed to survive. Just because the last Dark Lord had died didn't mean that all his followers had to do the same. 

So Draco had chosen to grin and bear it and appear not to be a sore loser. He refrained from using such words as "mudblood" and did his best to appear that he didn't care that You-Know-Who had been defeated. But no one actually gave a damn. No one was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, to think that perhaps he really wasn't plotting murder and destruction in secret. He was treated as if he were merely a Death Eater who had cheated death and had deserved a bad end, never mind the fact that he had only been a child during the whole mess. Every one of his attempts at reconciling himself with the rest of the Wizarding world had been met with failure. 

Then there had been her. 

His thoughts were so jumbled when it came to her. 

It hadn't been easy for Draco to swallow his pride and approach Hermione first. He had always been jealous at her prowess at school. He had half been hoping that it would be discovered that she was actually a Pureblooded child, hidden away by Dumbledore and his cohorts, and so he wasn't being bested in all subjects by one such as her. That daydream had never materialized, and things only became worse when he found out that he was assigned not only to the same department as her, but to the very same office. How could he compete with her brilliance? And what did it say about him to fail to ever best her in anything? A Malfoy should be better than that. That was what he had always been told. 

Yet he had done the unthinkable and offered her a truce – and she had accepted. It was incredible. No one else in any of the other Houses had taken his offers at face value, but she had. It had went so well that only a short while later, he had offered to take her out to dinner. She hadn't liked it all that much; in retrospect, he supposed he should have known better, but she had accepted a second time. She enjoyed that second evening more. And it hadn't been his imagination. She had smiled at him and laughed. Real, genuine laughter. The kind that he was brought up to look down upon for being too common. The kind that he found he enjoyed. 

Almost as much as he enjoyed being with her. For a while, he wondered if this was fate. For him to fall in love with someone he had thought wasn't good enough for him, when it turned out to be that he wasn't good enough for her – but she was willing to give him a chance anyway. He had been skirting around the issue of asking maybe formally asking her out on a date, when he had learned about her birthday. That bit of knowledge had set his plans in motion, and he had wanted everything to be perfect for that day. And everything seemed to be coming together perfectly. It made him believe in things such as hope once again. 

But it had been too good to be true. 

Draco suspected something was going to happen when Weasley barged in and demanded to talk to Hermione. He had given them their privacy because Hermione had requested it, but he could tell that whatever the arsehole had said, it had upset Hermione. He hadn't been too surprised to receive a note from her canceling the next day. Draco had blamed Weasley for making Hermione feel guilty about not making plans around him and Potter. So he had put everything off for one day and owled her the next day to ask her to see him then. 

She had never replied. He hadn't bothered to ask about it when he saw her next as he didn't want her to know how much it had meant to him. Hermione had apologized prettily enough, and that did help make him feel better to know that she was sorry for ignoring him so. Hermione had invited Draco to a weekend with her friends. He didn't want to tag along, but he had accepted. He didn't know why. Perhaps it was because she was challenging him to be better. Or maybe it was because he needed to be with her and he would take any chance he got to spend more time with her. 

Even now, he couldn't erase the images from that day. When Draco had arrived, Hermione had waved him towards their table. Potter's arm was conspicuously around Hermione, telling Draco to keep his hands off in a not-so-subtle fashion. Draco had shrugged off the warning, thinking that if Hermione wanted him, then that was all that mattered. 

What he found out, however, that she didn't want him. That kiss with Potter proved it. He felt betrayed and used. He couldn't help but think that she only spent time with him to make her little boyfriend jealous. Draco had since then determined that she hadn't been thinking like that. If he read her right, she thought of them as only friends. Part of him held out hope that maybe that was a good sign, that she did seem to have a habit of dating her best friends, but the rest of him knew that Potter wasn't a big enough fool to let her go like Weasley dead. It didn't help to know that she was innocent of trying to hurt him. But in her innocence, she had been more cruel to him than anyone had been before. 

And that made him wonder why he bothered at all with life. 

All of a sudden, the hairs on the back of his neck raised as he felt the slight buzz of magic, as if someone were Apparating into his flat. That was impossible, as Draco had set wards to prevent anyone but himself from doing so. He didn't trust his father's associates not to harm him because he didn't fight until the very end. He started to reach for his wand when a soft weight landed squarely in his lap. 

Draco recognized those brown orbs staring at him. "Hermione?" he said, not believing what his eyes reported back to him. "What are you doing here? For that matter, how did you get here?" 

She tumbled off of his lap, almost falling to the floor in her haste. "I don't know," she said. "One moment I was speaking with Harry, the next I was here." 

"Ah. I see." That was another thing that ought to have tipped him off. Potter was always Harry to her, no matter how upset she was with him at the moment. She had never seen fit to call Draco by his first name, however. He had thought that it was merely force of habit, but now that he reconsidered it, it was probably more than that. Shaking his head clear of those thoughts, he stood up. "I had better check the wards," he said. "Just in case." In case of what, he did not know. But whatever drew Hermione here to him might have had a nasty surprise in store for the both of them, so he wanted to be prepared. To his surprise though, the wards had not been breached. 

"What's wrong?" asked Hermione, coming up behind him. 

"The wards are intact," he replied. "So I don't see how you could have managed to break through them." 

"Maybe a portkey . . ." 

"No," he said. "I'm the only one who can get in or out of here by magical means. You shouldn't have been able to come in here the way you did." 

"And how can you know that if you don't know how I got here?" Hermione asked. "You can't block a spell unless you know its components." She was soon settling into their newly established rhythm of debating theories at work, with each of them poking and prodding at any flaws they could find. 

"True. But the transportation spells all have a similar basis. You need to know where you are coming from and where you are going. In this instance, I'll assume you knew where you were—" 

"But I didn't do anything," she interrupted. 

"Fine. Whoever cast the spell knew where you were, but they couldn't have had my flat's signature. It's quite well-hidden." He paused to contemplate whether he should say any more than that. Finally, he settled on saying, "My family has spent many years perfecting such techniques." 

Hermione took that statement at face value. "Yes, that is true. And whoever did this would have needed to know where I was as well. Harry has so many wards on our flat, including ones to prevent Apparation." 

"How about Floo and portkeys?" Draco asked. 

"Floo only by certain people when we unlock our fireplace, and portkeys only if we made them ourselves. And then we have to activate the portkey for a specific person and time." 

"Hmm." Draco absently rubbed at his chin. "Maybe some kind of a strange reaction? By trying to send you from one unknown to another . . . some sort of cancellation effect?" He frowned. That sounded very experimental. Too experimental to try upon any living creature, must less a fellow wizard. But there were those who wouldn't put Hermione in that category because of her heritage. On the other hand, those sorts of people would be more cautious, as Hermione was a very visible personage in the Wizarding world, despite all her protestations to the contrary. Not to mention the fact what Potter would do to any such wizards using Hermione as a test subject when he found them. Though they would be lucky if Potter got to them first instead of him. 

"I don't see how that would work," Hermione said. "You would have to key in to the specific person . . . and Harry has wards to prevent targeting like that too. He's almost paranoid when it comes to shielding our flat." 

Draco resisted the urge to scream out of frustration. This was not the time or the place, but the way Hermione spoke, it sounded as if she and Harry were an old, married couple. "I suppose you want to get back to him," he said, waving his hand to the door. "Go on then." 

Hermione bit her lip, a trait that annoyed Draco to no end during their Hogwarts years and still did. Maybe Potter was besotted enough to find that habit endearing, but all it made Draco want to do was snog her senseless so she would stop doing that. He knew the reaction he would get if he attempted that. He would be lucky if Hermione stopped at only sending a dozen hexes his way. And she knew more spells than he did. 

"I should get back to him," Hermione said. "He's probably worrying so much about me. He's not had the easiest life, you know." 

Yes, Draco knew. He knew perfectly well about all the sorrows that had been heaped upon the Boy-Who-Lived. The whole damn world knew about that. Potter was the sort of person to play up to people's pity. It was getting tiring. Draco didn't want Hermione's pity, but it would be nice if she realized that other people hadn't had an easy time of it at Hogwarts. Additionally, Draco's life hadn't improve since leaving school like Potter's had. There was no way anyone could convince Draco that Potter's life hadn't got better. For he had Hermione now, that lucky bastard. 

"Go ahead then. There's the door. You can just let me be," he said. "Like everyone else," he added softly to himself. 

Not softly enough though as Hermione whipped her head around to regard him. "What is that supposed to mean?" she asked. 

"What?" Draco floundered for a way to cover up his gaffe. "I like to spend some time alone in the evenings to think." That excuse sounded lame even to his ears. 

Hermione leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. "Is there something wrong, Malfoy?" she asked. 

"No," he said quickly. "Well, aside from the fact that you've somehow got here when you're not supposed to be able to do that. But I can figure out what caused that on my own, thank you." 

Hermione sighed audibly. "I know we're not close, Malfoy, but . . .well, I like to think that we've kind of become friends over the last few weeks . . . and if something is bothering you, you should know that I'm always willing to help out my friends." 

Draco closed his eyes. He knew that. That was one of the best things about her. He wasn't used to such loyalty, where a person would ignore their own wishes and desires to help out a friend. He had been abandoned very quickly by his peers, after they realized that his father was no longer in favor with the Dark Lord. It would be so easy to take advantage of that loyalty, to confess his feelings and make her feel guilty to see . . . but no. He wouldn't do that. Draco didn't want Hermione to be with him because she felt bad for him. He wanted her to be with him simply because she enjoyed doing so and because there was no one else she'd rather be with. 

"I'm fine," he repeated. "Really, I am." He willed himself to be appear so, to fool her. If he couldn't have her, if he couldn't have anything he wanted at all, then at least he could hang on to his pride. It was a poor substitute, but one that his family had made do with throughout the ages. They had survived. So would he. Somehow. 

"But it doesn't seem like—" 

Just as suddenly as she appeared, Hermione was gone, leaving Draco to wonder if she had really been there in the first place. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Harry sat on the couch, his hands covering his face, as he desperately sought out clues to where Hermione may have been taken in his memory. When Hermione had first disappeared, Harry had hoped that it was only a dream. A very bad dream, but a dream nevertheless, from which he would awaken to find Hermione at his side. Harry had pinched himself several times, trying to wake up, before he had realized – this didn't feel like a nightmare. Yes, it had all the substance of one, but it was lacking a certain quality. And Harry ought to know what was a nightmare and what wasn't. He had had enough of them to be something of an expert. 

That had been when he had started panicking. He had leapt up from his seat and shot out the door, only to stop as he set foot outside. He had no idea where to start looking. There had been no specific threats that he had known about. All of Voldemort's Death Eaters were locked up, and Harry would have been the first one they called if any got out, if only to ask for his help in recapturing them. And why go after Hermione when he was a target as well. For that matter, how could anyone have broken through the wards on the flat to get to her? Harry couldn't fathom how it could be done. 

Fortunately, that was when Harry had begun thinking, rather that just reacting, and had called Ron in to help. Two brains were better than one and all that rot. Hermione would have been proud, if she were here to see it. That thought had brought him to his knees. When Ron had arrived, he had only needed one glance to tell that whatever was wrong, it had to deal with Hermione for Hermione should have been comforting Harry. After he had got out of Harry the fact that she had simply disappeared, he had called in reinforcements – the twins to check to see if this was merely a malicious prank or one gone very wrong. Even now, the twins were inspecting every fathom of the flat, looking to see traces of a spell. 

"Nothing?" Ron asked from his vantage point across Harry. 

"Nothing. I keep thinking and thinking and – one moment we're talking about how our initials match and the next, she's gone. Like that." 

"Did you give her anything?" Ron asked. "That could have been disguised as a portkey?" 

"No," said Harry. "I didn't. And that shouldn't have worked either. I've warded the flat against the use of those for the most part." 

"Did you feel any magic being used?" 

"No. Not until she was gone. And then the touch of it lingered in the air." 

"That's puzzling," said Ron. "I'd think you would have felt something." He looked up as the twins approached the two of them. "Find anything?" he asked. 

"No," said Fred. 

"Not a thing," finished George. 

"But this isn't exactly our business," said Fred seriously. "We can tell you that this isn't the result of a simple prank—" 

"Or even a complicated one at that. But that doesn't rule out . . ." George paused. "Well, all I'm trying to say is that you might want to call in the professionals. They'd be here in seconds for Harry." 

Harry could not believe this was happening. He had thought that he had taken care of everyone that was out to get him. Did he make enemies that he didn't know about? Obviously, he did, as there was that one team where the owner hated him. But enough for them to take their anger out on Hermione to get to him? Harry swore that whenever he found the bastard who had done this, he would live to regret it. 

"Not yet," said Ron. "I have an idea. You said that you didn't give Hermione anything. Could anyone else have done so?" 

"I don't . . . how would I know?" 

"Was she wearing anything new?" Ron prompted him. 

"No. I suppose maybe she could have had something in her pocket or—" 

"Right." Ron nodded his head decisively. "Anyone feel like giving the Ferret a call? Before we ring Moody and his crew to make a right big mess of it?" 

"Is there something that you know that we don't, little brother?" asked Fred. 

"Yeah. At karaoke last weekend – which by the way, you must try – Malfoy left in a snit after he saw Hermione kiss Harry. He could have easily given her something at work that she'd forgotten about and—" 

"Only problem is that why would she keep it on her? She hasn't seen him since yesterday, right Harry?" asked George. 

"No, she hasn't." Harry's throat was suddenly full of fear. "Not unless she saw him in the theatre. When I had left to go to the loo." 

"She didn't mention seeing him?" asked Fred. When Harry shook his head no, he continued on. "Then she probably didn't. She would have told you." 

"Not if she didn't want to upset him. Because of something that Malfoy might have done, might have given her." Ron stubbornly refused to give up on his potential suspect. "Besides, would it hurt if a couple of us nip over there to make sure Hermione's not locked up in there?" 

At that suggestion, Harry doubled over again, his mind supplying images of what Hermione could be going through at this very moment as he sat there, unable to do a thing. He was vaguely aware of George shouting at Ron for not being more sensitive, while Fred told the both of them to shut it as they were giving him a headache. Someone offered him a glass of water, only to dump it on him when he didn't respond. Then someone else forced his head between his knees, only stopping when Ron remarked that wasn't necessary for Harry wasn't the fainting type and that they should give him some room to breathe. Everyone backed off then, for which Harry was grateful. He tried to gather his thoughts, collect them so he could be some use to Hermione, wherever she was. 

All of a sudden, there was the faint tingle of magic in the air. The Weasley brothers quickly drew out their wands, ready for the worst, when Hermione fell on to the couch, in exactly the same seat that she had been in before she had disappeared. 

Harry rushed to her, clutching her tightly to his chest, needing to feel her to make sure she was really there. Her arms came around him. She tried to soothe him, but he could feel that she was still shaken from her experience. He asked her if she was all right. She tried to reassure him that she was, and he clung to her as if he was never going to let go. 

Somewhere between all of that, the Weasley brothers had left to return to their homes, knowing that they were not needed here at the moment.   
  


**Author's note:** That's all for this week. ^_^ I hope you liked it and I'd appreciate it if you could leave me a review. Finally, thanks to **Shawn Pickett**, **danielerin**, **ears91**, **cmt0125**, **riddikulus_leigh **(no, it was always supposed to take her where she was needed -- she just wanted it to take her to where she belonged, but there'll be more on that later), **AngelicDemon16 **(what cliffhanger isn't evil?), **SilverFoot **(I usually update sometime on Friday), **Pickels**, **Erik MacRorie **(Ron just forgot to mentioned it as he was planning to introduce the rest of his family to the horrors of his singing), **Izabel**, **augusam** (if Ron was around, it'd be more like a three way battle for the microphone), **Sheilalein **(it's amazing what Hermione can do when she puts her mind to it), **jennymay**, **piper-h-99**, **mikeus** (thanks! I like to think this Ron is more canon than the Ron in Seasons, but then that's how it should be as this is not an AU), **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **Sma03**, **FinalFantasyGoddess** (am glad you understand -- it's hard for an author to resist a cliffie like that ^_^), **HrryPttrFreak87**, **Blood57**, **thekidwonder*ladymistress**, **Leah6**, **Jen**, **Fire-bound heart**, **Wytil** (not to mention the fact that Harry's bound to have fangirls even in the Yukon), **Mariam** (maybe because it is? ^_~ But then again, you never know), **sally**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **ChinoYaEejit**, **Amynoelle**, **lee74**, **Orlando's Gurl**, **telmie**, **xxbabysparklesxx**, **ExcalibursZone** (oh Harry still needs her -- trust me on that one), **Ferdia**, **ravenclaw's heir**, **Candy**, **happy2**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Crinos-X**, **Quis**, **Desaix**, **Fatima**, **TheWraith1** (no, it's not wearing off, if that's any comfort), **myman-harry526**, **Star19**, **rochele-88** (I don't think Harry and Draco will be friends any time soon), **Lil-frankie14**, **chris-warren876**, **Kage Miko**, **bishtawiman**, **malu **(there was no violence only because Ron stopped singing, otherwise the speaker would have been gone), **Lucki Me** (thanks! Though I don't think civility will last long between the boys, especially not after Harry learns where Hermione went), **spacey-me90**, **hobbit**, **Mistress Desdemona**, **estonian gal** (thanks -- I'm glad you like it ^_^), **harryloveshermione2003**, **megan**, **Ramy**, **blondi gurl**, **juliet's rose**, **Bladefanatic**, **shaznay17** (*blinks* You think this is an example of things getting better? And would killing everyone off be the best ending of all? Am just curious. ^__^), **tigrrgirl13**, **rat-gal2000**, **EgyptsStar**, **sunne1** (she didn't Apparate anywhere), **B-Rocs**, **trackrunner101** (who needs her more than Harry -- well, I'll get technical in later chapters.), **greenbeangiant**, **tOmLoVeR17**, and **harry&Mionefan **for their reviews of the last chapter. Reading what you have to say after a cliffie like that is always fun, and I was very gratified to read that last week's cliffie wasn't a total surprise. ^_^ I didn't want it to seem like it came out of nowhere to everyone. So thanks so much! 


	22. Chapter Twenty Two : Go A Long Way Aroun...

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Twenty Two : Go A Long Way Around**

When Harry awoke the next morning, the first thing he did was glance at Hermione's side of the bed. She was still there. He could breathe again. He had woken up many times during the night to check upon her, to make sure she wasn't gone again. They hadn't been able to do much last night when it came to figuring out what had happened, as they were too busy trying to comfort one another. She had finally managed to convince him that she was unharmed, and for that, he was eternally grateful. 

That didn't mean he wasn't going to seriously hurt the person who did this to Hermione, however. 

Harry turned over in bed, casually throwing an arm around Hermione to pull her closer. She snuggled up to him, a small smile playing on her lips. She was so beautiful, though she wouldn't believe that if you told her. Maybe that was part of her charm. Regardless, Harry was happy to have her and happy to be able to see her once again. Normally by now, he would have already been in the kitchen, making breakfast for the two of them, but he wanted to stay her by her side. For reassurance. Everything seemed all right, but the same could have said moments before she disappeared. 

After an eternity of watching her sleep, Hermione gradually woke up. She blinked her eyes, as if trying to figure out where she was, before turning to kiss him. "Good morning," she said. 

"Good morning," he replied. That was another thing that he noticed. He was apparently more shaken from the whole ordeal than she was. Which was a good thing, as he didn't want anything bad to have happened to her. He wondered if that was what Hermione must have felt like back when they were in school, and all she could do was wait for him to come back. He hated that feeling, though he only experienced it once. He had felt so helpless, so useless. He felt the same now as he didn't know what he would do if she disappeared on him again. Though he supposed that perhaps she was more upset than she let on, and she was just hiding her feelings to make him feel better. That thought made him feel even worse, as if he were not just useless but a burden on her. 

"How about we get dressed and see about breakfast?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded his head. He followed Hermione as she swung herself out of bed and went into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, with him doing the latter as well. She didn't say a word about that, merely lifting an eyebrow at his behavior. When she finished, she walked over at him, looking to her right and then at him expectantly. Harry stood there, not sure at what she was getting at. Finally, she heaved a sigh and gently pushed him outside, before closing the bathroom door. Harry flushed when he realized what she had wanted a bit of privacy for. 

When she had finished in there, it was back to her bedroom to get dressed. Harry followed her in there too, and she blushed as she changed clothes. That was charming. That after they had known each other for so long and had been together – well, that wasn't as long but long enough for them to have seen everything – she still blushed when she caught him looking at her. Harry wondered if she would eventually move past that shyness of hers as the years past on, and thought that he would miss her blush if it happened. Which he kind of hoped would happen as that would mean they were at another level of closeness, but he would miss it. He supposed he would just have to find another way to make her turn red. 

After they had both dressed for the day, it was on to the kitchen. Harry suggested that they eat out, as it was rather late, but Hermione shook her head and said that she preferred to stay him. If that was what she wanted, that was what she would get. However, they found that they had a visitor this morning waiting for them on the couch. 

"Good morning, you two," Ron called cheerfully from his seat as he looked up from a copy of the _Prophet_. Harry noted that it seemed to be their copy, which Ron must have picked up. He shuffled to one side of the couch, giving them room to sit down. "I hope you don't mind but I let myself in." He nodded at the fireplace, letting them know how he had arrived. "How are you two?" 

"As well as can be expected." She walked over to the couch and took a seat, and Harry did the same, slinging an arm around her. "Any particular reason for you to drop by? Or do you just miss us?" 

Ron shrugged. "I do kind of miss seeing you two each and every morning – though I don't miss Hermione nagging me at the breakfast table! But I would think you would know why I'm here this early." 

Harry echoed Hermione's sigh. Yes, he knew why Ron was here. And he supposed that it was best that they got to the bottom of this mess so that it wouldn't happen again. Because they couldn't know that Hermione would return safely again. And he wouldn't be able to live in a world like that. 

"So Hermione, where did you wind up last night?" Ron asked the question that Harry had been putting off. 

"I was . . . that is to say . . . okay, don't jump to any conclusions," she said. "I don't know how it happened, but somehow, I wound up at Malfoy's." 

"That bastard!" Ron exclaimed. He leaped out of his seat and began pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. 

"Do you know where he lives?" Harry asked, casually reaching for his wand. When he found that it wasn't in his pocket, he summoned it from his room, ready to go out and let Malfoy how much he appreciated him trying to steal Hermione away from him by foul means. "I think I'd like to show him how much I've improved when it comes to hexes over the years." 

"I said don't jump to conclusions!" Hermione glared at the two of them and crossed her arms. "There's no reason to—" 

"No reason to go after him?" Ron said. "Or no reason to think that he was behind all of this? Because I think he's the prime suspect." 

Harry nodded. "He wants you so he puts a spell on you so he can have you. Why else would you disappear last night like that?" 

"I don't know. But I don't think it was him. He was so surprised when I appeared. And he didn't look as if he had been plotting anything against us," Hermione said. 

"Of course, he looked surprised! It was an act!" Harry said. 

"It didn't look like an act," Hermione insisted. 

"Then it was a very good act." 

"Look here, Hermione. I know you don't like to think about this," Ron said, "but it's rather obvious that Malfoy has got it bad for you. He fancies you. Look at the way he left so quickly after you and Harry kissed like that. I frankly was wondering when he would try to pull something like this." 

Hermione had the grace to look embarrassed, while Harry pummeled his memory for that fact. He hadn't noticed Malfoy doing that at the time – well, he had noticed him leaving but Harry hadn't realized that Malfoy had left because of that kiss, though that did make too sense. He supposed he was too caught up in Hermione at the time, which wasn't a bad thing, per se, unless it put her in danger. Clearly, he should have been paying attention more. Harry only wished they could make her see that Malfoy was not someone you could trust. 

"I still don't think it was him," Hermione stated again. "Maybe that is true . . . but I don't think he would do that. It's not in character for him." 

"True," Harry said bitterly. "Considering he's a Slytherin and the fact that he knows the Potions Master so well, a love potion would be more up his alley." 

"Harry! That's an awful thing to say!" 

"I can't help but wonder if he's already given you one the way you're acting, the way you're defending him!" 

"You weren't there last night! He was so surprised. Besides, he has wards up to prevent magical transportation just like you." 

Harry scoffed. "Those wards can be modified by the maker to allow select people in. As we have done ourselves. So that doesn't mean a thing. And is there any way we can check for a love potion, Ron?" 

Hermione bit her lip. "Harry! I am not under the influence of any—" 

"Really? So why are you yelling at me like you hate me?" 

"I am not yelling at you!" she exclaimed. "And I don't hate you. You should know that. You know I love you, but I can't let you jump to conclusions like that. I wish you would trust my instincts by now." 

"I did, Hermione! Up until the bit where you vanish from our flat to wind up in that bastard's lap." Hermione blushed, and Harry saw red. So she had wound up in his lap. He wondered what else happened while she was gone. He got up and stalked towards the door. "That's it. I'm killing the bastard for laying a hand on you." 

"Harry!" Hermione was suddenly at his side, tugging at his arm. "He did nothing to me . . ." 

"Nothing that you didn't want to happen?" he asked. 

"Yes! I mean, no! I mean . . . oh!" She stomped her foot. "You are being impossible, you do know that, right? Nothing happened. We were only talking about how I could have arrived there with all the wards around his flat and ours. And stop being so stupid! You're the one I love, you're the one I live with, you're the one I want and have always wanted!" She was almost sobbing by now, and Harry valiantly tried to push back the tears as well. He knew that she loved him, certainly she had shown that countless times, but it still hurt, the way she refused to see his point of view. He wish he could make her understand that Malfoy was not a nice wizard and was out to have her, at all costs. 

"Okay, kiddies, time to take a break," Ron interrupted them. He pulled them both back away from the door, stopping in front of the couch, where he glared at them until they sat down. "Hermione, will you agree that it is not outside the realm of possibility that Malfoy is behind all this?" 

Hermione frowned. "No, I suppose not." She looked up. "But I don't think that—" 

"I think we've already established that, thank you very much." Ron massaged his temples. "And I think I'm getting a headache from listening to the two of you. I had better get named the godfather of your first child after this." The two of them blushed furiously at the suggestion. "Though I can see that will be some time yet. Anyway, back to the matter at hand, will you agree that if we eliminate all other possibilities, then it must be Malfoy?" 

"Well, there could be possibilities that we don't think of," Hermione said. 

Ron sighed wearily. "Yes, there's always that, but if we eliminate everything else that all three of us can think of, then it seems logical that Malfoy would become the prime suspect, right?" Hermione nodded slowly. "Good. Then let's put the whole Malfoy thing aside from now . . . and no, Harry, I don't think he's innocent either. I would be more than happy to hold your cloak while you go and beat the living daylights out of him, but I don't think that would be legal." 

Harry swore. That was right. He could see the headlines now if that happened. And knowing certain reporters in the field, they would probably proclaim that he had done it out of jealousy. Which wasn't true. Well, not exactly true. He wasn't jealous of Malfoy because he had Hermione and Hermione's love, but he didn't like what happened last night. 

"Okay, so let's start eliminating possibilities. Hermione, did anyone give you anything this week? Something that might have been a portkey?" Hermione shook her head on. "Come on, Hermione. I mean, anything could be a portkey," Ron said. 

"I know that, Ron," Hermione said a bit testily. "And no, I didn't get any surprise gifts or anything like that." 

"Fine, I guess that rules that theory out." Ron leaned back against the wall. "Did you feel any charms or spells being cast on you during the week?" 

"No, and I think I would have noticed that and done something about it before now." 

"True, true. And I'm quickly running out of ideas," said Ron. 

However, Harry had just had an idea, after Ron had mentioned any charms or spells being cast on Hermione. This had happened before. And Hermione had been secretive about how it had happened. He didn't want to push her about the matter, as he figured she would tell him in her own time, but given the current situation, it seemed that he had to bring it up. "Is it maybe somehow connected to last time?" he asked. 

"Last time?" Ron asked. "This has happened before?" 

"No, it hasn't," Hermione said with a puzzled look on her face. "And I should know as I was the only person who was transported by whatever." 

"I was talking about the time you suddenly appeared here. In my bed," Harry added. Looking back, that was a lost opportunity. If she appeared like that in his bed now, he knew he would have a very hard time keeping his hands to himself. 

"But that was—" Hermione suddenly paled. 

"What is it?" Harry asked, moving closer to her. "Hermione, what is it?" 

"Yes, do tell. The suspense is killing me," Ron said. 

"I . . . I need to get to a library!" Hermione said, standing up. 

"Hermione!" Harry followed her back to her room, motioning at Ron to follow. "What has got into you?" 

Hermione was frantically searching for her wand. "I told you, I need to get to the library. Right away. And I need my wand. To Apparate. And—" 

Harry walked up to her, grasping her by the arms and shaking her. "Hermione! You're not making any sense here. Please tell me. What's wrong? What do you think—" To his shock, he saw that she was crying. "Oh Hermione!" He embraced her, awkwardly patting her on her back. He hated it when girls cried. He never knew what to do. "Please don't cry. Did I do anything? Did I—" 

"No, not you. Me. I'm so stupid, Harry! And I'm sorry, so sorry," she said as her tears quickly soaked up his shirt. Harry continued to try to comfort her, but inwardly, he felt a bit of glee. Finally, she had seen the light. Finally, she knew that Malfoy was up to no good. 

"No need for apologies," he said. "I know you like to think the best of people." 

"What does that have to— " she started. "Oh no, Harry. Not that. It's . . . it's not his fault." She gulped, as if afraid to continue. "And you're going to be so mad." 

"Hermione, enough with the dramatics, just tell us what it is!" Ron nearly shouted at her. "As you're driving me batty with all this." 

"It's me. It's my fault. It's my charm, and it's my fault," she finally told them. 

"Your charm?" Harry asked dumbly. Evidently, she had cast the spell that had made her vanish yesterday. "You wanted to go to Malfoy's like that?" he asked, a feeling of gloom settling on his chest. 

"No! I always want to be with you! Unless you don't want me after this," Hermione said. 

"That will never happen," Harry told her. "But if you didn't want to go, then why did you cast a charm on yourself like that?" 

"No, I . . . it's a charm, you see. To take you where you're needed the most. And it took me here and I was so happy to know that you needed me," Hermione said, smiling up at him through her tears. He smiled hesitantly at her. "I thought it only worked once, but it's the only thing that I can think of that could do that. And I'm sorry! I didn't mean to worry you, to make you made, or anything like that!" She dissolved into tears again, and he held her close, trying to communicate without words just how much he loved her. He wasn't sure still why she thought it was all her fault, but that didn't matter right now. What mattered was making her tears stop and then stopping whatever was moving her around like that. 

"I think the library at Hogwarts would be the best," said Ron as he looked in at them from the door. "Best wards against magical transportation there as well," he added. 

"Yes," Harry agreed. "Do you want to go there, Hermione?" he asked. She sniffed and nodded her head and that was that. They would be going to Hogwarts to see if Hermione's theory was right. And later, he would have to take the time to convince her that he wasn't upset with her. After all, if the charm had taken her to him, it couldn't have been all bad.   


**Author's note:** That's the beginning of the explanation. The next chapter will be up at the usual time. I hope you liked this one, and I'd appreciate it if you could let me know what you thought by leaving a review. Finally, I'd like to thank **danielerin**, **cmt0125**, **jennymay **(I don't classify fics wrong), **ExcalibursZone**, **Sheilalein** (it does have nothing to do with Draco, as it's about the charm. He's just the unintended beneficiary of Hermione's mistake for one evening), **Singtoangels1** (yes, intellectually they are good for each other, but the problem with that is the fact that Hermione is in love with Harry. Kind of hard for her to ignore that), **udderpd**, **shaznay17** (yes, you and everyone else ^_^), **Angelic Demon16**, **PrincessME**, **mikeus** (not quite), **Star19** (yes but she's the closest one to him at the moment), **Fatima**, **Shawn Pickett**, **Izabel**, **Daintress**, **lee74**, **Bladefanatic**, **CookiMonstr08**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **SilverFoot** (read much angst?), **Pickels**, **Leah6**, **RogueBHS** (yes), **Wirez**, **spacey-me90**, **hpfanmelissa**, **xxbabysparklesxx**, **juliet's rose**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **bishtawiman**, **rochele-88** (there'll be more on that in later chapters. And only way chapters will get longer is for me to update every other week instead of every week), **ravenclaw's heir** (right on both counts), **Sarmi**, **TheWraith1**, **Blood57**, **TsuQ**, **malu**, **Mandy**, **chris-warren876**, **Orlando's Gurl**, **myman-harry526**, **FinalFantasyGoddess** (you're not wrong), **Mistress Desdemona** (no, Hermione wouldn't like it very much and would sit on him. Which would lead to other things), **Ramy**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Korine** (Harry's always able to distract her), **Avelynn Tame** (yes. And while I like the ship. D/Hr is very hard for me to write--at least happily--because of my ship preferences, though I have done it), **sally**, **LuluIsALobster**, **B-Rocs**, **casey windsor**, **augusam**, **Velvetrose786**, **sunne1**, **pangs1** (what goes around comes around, and right now, that's Hermione), **sweetchild**, **Jen** (you are there in the last one, right after Leah6), **tigrrgirl13**, **Animagus-Steph **(yup and of course, they won't take that news well), **Zekintha**, and **Cynthia21 **(thanks! I'm glad you like Ron, because I want him to be likeable ^_^)for their reviews of the last chapter. Reading them really made my day. Thanks! 


	23. Chapter Twenty Three : Sometimes Love

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Twenty Three : Sometimes Love**

The bad thing about crying, Hermione reflected, was that it always managed to give her a headache afterwards. Which was why she hated to do it, but sometimes, she couldn't help herself. Like after she had realized what might have caused her disappearance like that. A small part of her wished that it wasn't the charm, but some evil plot by Malfoy or whoever. That wasn't a nice thing to think, as Malfoy had really been making an effort to be kind to her, but she thought it all the same. Especially as she knew that Harry wouldn't like all the details. He was being very sweet now, and she loved him for it – but she couldn't see him liking the idea that his girlfriend was prone to disappearing at times to help others in need. Especially given his reaction that first time. He had literally been in pieces, and Hermione felt so badly when she thought how it had been all her fault. 

But now wasn't the time to linger on that. Now was the time to find a solution to her problems. The Trio were at the Hogwarts library, combing through the restricted section, just like old times. Each of them was in front of some book or another looking for any information on that charm Hermione had used. She had thought that the charm wouldn't stay put the way it did. True, it was a hybrid charm made up partly of a binding charm, but she thought she had taken care of the worst consequences of that portion. Hermione wasn't the most brilliant witch of her year for nothing. She knew perfectly well how each part of the charm functioned and how to go about modifying those parts to achieve the effect she wanted. She had felt kind of sad when she had finished making it and had no one to show it off to. It had been that good. And now she had more proof that it had been that good. It still worked. Granted, it wasn't supposed to still work, but the fact that it did meant that it had been very well constructed. Though she supposed she shouldn't be congratulating herself on that yet as she hadn't found out how to counteract its effects. 

"Remind me again why we're here?" asked Ron. 

"Because I need to find a counterspell to the charm I used," Hermione replied through gritted teeth. _Really! How many times do I have to say the same thing to the boy?_

"And a simple _Finite Incantatem _won't work because . . .?" Ron prompted her. 

"Honestly!" Hermione rolled his eyes. _And I guess we know who really didn't pay attention in Charms_, she noted to herself. 

"Because while most charms and spells are susceptible to the general counterspell of Finite Incantatem, not all of them are," said Harry. Hermione looked at him in surprise. She had thought he wouldn't know the answer either. "It wouldn't really be a good thing for all spells to be vulnerable to that, so there's ways to make sure that counter won't work," he continued, "in which case there is usually a more specific counterspell that one has to use. They can be very archaic and hard to get your mind around the theory to cast them." He caught the look Hermione was giving him and coughed. "I know that because it relates to Quidditch," he said, answering her unasked question. "As I was wondering about all those charms they put on brooms." 

_That makes sense. And Harry is adorable when he's embarrassed like that. Though I don't know why he'd be shy about knowing something – but then he's never been one to put himself forward. Which makes him more loveable. Though I can't really say that, can I, as blokes don't like to be called adorable and lovable and downright glompable? _Hermione shook her head frantically, trying to get back to her previous train of thought. _ Gah! Must concentrate. Can snog Harry later. Can snog Harry lots later as he really deserves it for being so understanding about all of this. _ Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted to smile or frown. She had thought Harry was distracting before they got together, but it was nothing as compared to now. Before he was distracting because she wondered how it would feel like to kiss him, to be able to hold him and be held by him. Now she knew what that felt like – and worse, she knew she could indulge in kissing him and he wouldn't mind the slightest. Before, she had been tempted but she had been able to resist him partly because she didn't know how he would react. Now, she was tempted and she knew he would kiss her back. Hence the whole reason why he had become even more distracting to her. 

Hermione wondered if she had the same effect on him. She kind of hoped so. It would only be fair. Hermione risked a glance at Harry, only to find that he had been staring at her. Their eyes met, and Hermione was found it so hard not to cross the distance that separated them to give him a kiss. 

"You know, I for one am awfully glad that the two of you didn't get together in school," Ron remarked conversationally. "Because the way you two look at each other like a pair of lovesick puppies is truly something else. And it's getting so sweet that it's starting to turn my stomach. So enough already." Harry and Hermione both blushed. Hermione hadn't realized that she had been staring at Harry for that long. Heck, she hadn't realized that she had been staring at him at all. But she brought her attention back to Ron, who was now saying something else. "So Hermione, do you remember anything at all about the book that has the counterspell?" he asked. "Otherwise, I think we'll be here all day looking for it." 

Hermione gulped. She hadn't told Harry and Ron the bad news yet. Well, the very bad news that made everything else seem good in comparison at least. The fact that the charm still worked was also bad news, she knew, but it wasn't as bad as what they didn't know. 

"If you don't remember, that's fine," said Harry softly. "I don't mind being here all day with you to find it." 

"That's if you manage to get any work done." Ron shook his head in despair. "Knowing you, you'd probably start snogging – or worse – before five minutes had passed if you were alone." 

"Ron!" Hermione said. "We would not!" 

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Trust me, Hermione, the way you two were staring at each other, as if you could hardly bear to be apart . . . you would have been in a lip lock with Harry by now." 

"One can only hope," Harry quipped. "But I guess we better get back to the books. Especially if Hermione can't remember anything about the one that has the counterspell." 

_Damn. They haven't given that up yet. I guess I should tell them the truth, rather than let them find it out later. _Hermione wibbled. _Harry is going to be so mad. More than he is now. He's been so good about it but . . . I know he's going to be mad._

"Hermione?" Harry asked. "Is something wrong?" 

"I . . . yes, well . . . that is to say . . . ." Hermione took a deep breath to steady herself. She could do this. "Thereisnocounterspell," she blurted out very fast. 

Both Harry and Ron stared at her, as if they couldn't make out what she had said. Then Ron turned to Harry and said, "Okay. I know I didn't hear that right. It kind of sound as if she said that there is no counterspell. And I know that Hermione's smarter than to try some spell she's concocted that has no known counter." Harry nodded his agreement. 

Hermione closed her eyes. _Damn, damn, damn. They aren't making this any easier. I should have known better . . . but I was so desperate. I'd been useful the whole time I was at Hogwarts, but when I left, no one needed me anymore. I had nothing to do, and I didn't know what I was going to do with myself. And this charm was a way out. Though they probably won't understand that. _She tried again. "I did say that. There is no counterspell. None that I ever found that is," she added quickly. "As theoretically, every spell must have its counter." 

Ron rose from his seat, the steam clearly coming off his head. "Are you bloody insane?" he demanded in a loud voice. "To use a charm that has no counter! Hermione, what were you thinking?" Hermione opened her mouth to shush him for they were in the library, after all, but he wasn't in a listening mood. "You should've been smarter than that, Hermione. And why did you do something that is so brilliantly stupid?" 

"I had my reasons," said Hermione. "And it's not all been bad." She glanced over at Harry, who sat as though in shock. She smiled hesitantly at him, hoping he would leap in and agree that some good things came out of her use of that charm, but he was too stunned to do so. 

"Yeah, well you could have had Harry at any time simply by letting him know that you fancied him. But you were too stubborn for that." Ron shook his head in disgust. "I can't believe this. I didn't think that you, of all people could be so—" 

"Mr. Weasley!" Madam Pince said sternly from behind him. "Have you learned nothing from your years at Hogwarts. This is a library." 

Ron whirled around the glare at the witch. He wasn't in the mood to put up with being scolded. "And your point is? We're in the restricted section, and we're not bothering anyone," he said. 

"On the contrary, Mr. Weasley, you can clearly be heard by all the students studying." Madam Pince looked around Ron to glare at Hermione. "And Miss Granger. I would think that you would be the first to appreciate the fact that some people need it nice and quiet in here." 

"I'm sorry, Madam Pince," Hermione said contritely. 

"Sorry? For not whispering here?" Ron seemed outraged. "Hermione! You bloody well should be apologizing to Harry and not to this old harridan." 

"That is it!" Madam Pince looked furious. "Out! Out with all of you!" With that, she began shooing them out, arguing with Ron half the time. Hermione groaned. She felt for all those students who were trying to revise for exams, but couldn't at the moment because of the scene that was going on. Though she supposed she ought to feel sorry for herself and Harry as well, because it was a sure bet that this incident would be recorded in the _Daily Prophet _tomorrow. It was that sort of week. 

Once outside the library, the Trio formed a huddle beside its doors. Ron was furious, though Hermione didn't know if that was directed primarily at her or at Madam Pince, and she wasn't about to ask.. Harry, on the other hand, still looked as though he were in shock. Hermione took his hand in hers and kissed him quickly on the lips. "I love you," she said. "And I'm sorry that I've put you through this." 

That seemed to bring him out of his thoughts. "I love you too, Hermione. But this . . . this I can hardly believe. Why did you do such a thing?" 

"Because," said Hermione. "Because I . . . felt kind of empty after Hogwarts, with nothing to do and no one to help. I didn't know what else to do. I figured that wherever the charm took me, it had to be better than where I was currently at. And it was." 

"Thank you," he said. "But I wish you told one of us. We would have helped you. We did help you, in fact. Ron helped you find a job and I . . . well, I'm always there for you." 

"I know," she said. "I didn't think you'd understand." She sighed. "Looking back, it was a really stupid thing for me to do, but I can't regret it completely because I might not have you if I didn't." 

"Yeah. And there has to be a counter, just like you said," Harry added. 

"Yeah, we just have to make one up," Ron said sarcastically. "Creating spells is _so _easy. Everyone can do it," he added nastily. 

"Ron," said Harry. "Don't act like that. You're only making things worse." 

"Sorry mate," he said, "but it's just that it was bloody stupid of Hermione to have . . . bleh! And here I thought this day couldn't get any worse." Hermione and Harry both turned to look at the direction Ron was grimacing at, only to see that Malfoy was headed their way. He stopped in front of the three of them. 

"Good morning, Hermione," he said. Hermione winced. If there was someone who could set Harry off, it was Malfoy especially as Harry knew she had been sent to him last night. She hoped that Malfoy had sense enough to move on, rather than try to start up an extended conversation. 

He didn't. 

"You look well this morning," he said after nodding frigidly at Harry and Ron. "Did you do any more traveling last—" He never got a chance to finish what he was going to say because both Harry and Ron had whipped their wands out. 

"You bastard!" Ron shouted. 

Harry, however, didn't waste his breath. Already, he was moving his wand in a complicated set of patterns that was meant to cause a series of warts in the shape of a carrot to arise on the victim's face. Malfoy recognized the wand waving as being something that was not good and reached for his own. Hermione sighed. She had thought that she had seen the last duel Harry would be in after they had finished Hogwarts. That wasn't to be the case, it seemed, and the worst thing was that it could all be traced back to her stupidity. 

"Stop that, all of you," Hermione said. She stepped between them. Harry and Malfoy promptly put down their wands, but Ron looked as though he was willing to have a go at Hermione for being so frustrating today. She faced him and glared at him. "If you want to duel, Ron, just say the word. I think you'd make a charming tortoise." Someone behind her snirked. Who she didn't know, as it could have been either one. But her words had the desired effect as Ron put away his wand. 

"Good. Now, there is no reason for the three of you to fight. While there are plenty of reasons for you not to fight, especially not in the middle of Hogwarts. So why don't we all go our separate ways quietly." She focused her attention on Malfoy. "And I am fine, thank you, and I hope you have a nice day." She stepped aside, closer to Harry, to let Malfoy pass. 

"I was going to the library," he said. "I must admit that I rather expect you to be headed in the same direction . . . ." 

"We were just leaving," said Hermione. "Have fun." 

"So do you know how you managed to break through all my wards last night?" Malfoy asked directly. 

Hermione winced. She didn't want to tell Malfoy about the charm. She saw no reason to and plenty of reasons not to. It didn't really affect him, not the way it did Harry and Ron. Though she supposed there was no way he could take advantage of the spell – well, no way that she knew of. And while she would like to think that Malfoy wouldn't try to take advantage of it, she would also like to think that he didn't fancy her and she wasn't sure that was true anymore. So all in all, it was best not to tell him. "I'm working on that," she said. "Don't worry. I'll get to the bottom of it." 

"And not by researching?" He raised one elegant eyebrow at her. "I would be happy to escort you to the library, if these two—" Hermione promptly stepped on his foot to shut him up. She could feel Harry growing angry beside her, and she couldn't blame him. Malfoy must have some sort of a death wish to be carrying on like that. 

"I'm hungry," she said. "Have to take a break for lunch some time. And it's lucky that it's now so we won't be trying to read the same book at once because that never works. So I guess we'll see you later." Hermione crossed her fingers and hoped Malfoy would get the hint. This time, he did and he went into the library without saying another word. 

"I'm going to follow him," Ron announced. "He might be up to no good and . . . ." 

Hermione had the sudden urge to throttle Ron. He always thought it was Malfoy's fault and this time it wasn't. He always assumed the worst of Malfoy, and this time, Hermione knew that Malfoy was genuinely concerned about the strength of his wards and what could have transported her. Besides, Ron was being incredibly idiotic with that suggestion. "Ron, we were just kicked out of the library," said Hermione. And I shouldn't have to point that out, she added mentally. 

"And I don't think Madam Pince will be amenable to letting you back in," said Harry. 

"I have the Weasley charm going for me," Ron said, waving their statements aside. "Trust me. I can get in. Worst case scenario, I said I came back to apologize. Wish me luck," he finished with a grin and then, he was gone. 

Hermione sighed. _And that is why I think of him as a younger brother. Because only a younger brother can be that stupid._ She shook her head and then looked at Harry. "I am . . . ." 

"Sorry, yes I know," said Harry. "And you love me, which helps. I never get tired of hearing you say that at least. But what I'd really like is to find a way to take that charm off you. Because next time, you might not be so lucky. And I don't mean with Malfoy per se—you might get sent some place that's very dangerous." Harry looked distraught. "And I wouldn't be able to find you." 

Hermione embraced him. "I know. I can take care of myself," she said. 

"But I want to protect you." 

"I know. I feel the same." She sighed. "I think the library is barred to us for now, so what do you say to paying Professor Flitwick a visit?" 

"Professor Flitwick?" Harry's brow wrinkled in puzzlement. "I thought you'd want to visit McGonagall first." 

"She isn't the Charms professor," Hermione said simply. "If I had a Transfiguration problem, she would be the first one I went to but I don't. I'm sure Professor Flitwick has his own private library of books. We might find something in there. Or he might know something directly." 

"Sounds as good as plan as any to me," Harry said. He impulsively drew her to him and held her tight. "I hope," he said in a choked up voice, "that we find a counter soon. Because the thought of not having you with me . . . Hermione, I need you." 

"I know, Harry, I know," she said. "I need you too. More than anything else in this world." As Hermione heard his breath catch, she knew they needed some time alone together. A side trip to the Room of Requirement would be just the thing. Harry needed some reassurance that he was the only one she wanted to be with. And she only wanted to be close to him, as close as he'd let her get.   


**Author's note:** And that's all for this week's update. I hope you liked it and I'd appreciate if you could leave me a review. Finally, thanks to **danielerin**, **Fire-bound heart **(yes, things will be getting very interesting now ^_~), **Shawn Pickett** (it will take awhile because of the problems mentioned in this chapter and the next), **Daintress** (that's cause they're still in shock), **Erik MacRorie** (if he wants to do that, it can't be in front of Hermione, because she won't like being treated like a bone two dogs are fighting over), **SilverFoot** (there are reasons for Hermione not wanting to realize it right away and the principle one is in this chapter), **Fatima** (thanks -- glad to hear that), **xxbabysparklesxx**, **mikeus** (yes, am still working on Seasons, where Hermione is busy telling Draco that he'd better not set foot near their estate), **Creepy Susie**, **ExcalibursZone**, **LeslieGlady**, **Star19**, **lee74**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **TheWraith1 **(I'm not giving that away), **dreamingdemon**, **LuluIsALobster**, **monkeychika2006**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **hpfanmelissa**, **Jabba1**, **Zekintha **(thanks, I'll try to get that fixed this weekend), **Orlando's Gurl**, **Falling**, **myman-harry526** (eep! Better you than me), **Bladefanatic** (yes, though Hermione will get annoyed by it if he keeps it up), **Blood57 **(he's in shock -- the fight will come later), **harryloveshermione2003**, **Amynoelle**, **Jen**, **RogueBHS**, **Leah6**, **juliet's rose **(it has everything to do with it), **malu**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **superstar09**, **jc**, **CookiMonstr08**, **tigrrgirl13**, **Sally**, **paochi_cute**, and **casey windsor** for their reviews of the last chapter. They were really fun to read. 


	24. Chapter Twenty Four : Just Communication

  
**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Twenty Four : Just Communication**

A long while later, Harry found himself clutching Hermione's hand tightly as they both walked up the steps to Professor Flitwick's office. It had been a very pleasant interlude the two of them had had – and something that he wished would occur more often, but he didn't want Hermione to feel as though he was pushing her. He couldn't say that he was content with how open she was with him. He was so greedy when it came to her, he always wanted more. But it made him happy to be with her as much as he was. Very happy. So happy that the detour had taken them much longer than either of them had expected, especially when one considered that they had to make themselves presentable afterwards. And that there were lots of opportunities to be naughty when they were trying to help each other dress. Not that Harry had his heart set on Hermione getting dressed. Quite the opposite in fact. 

Thinking on that only made it hard on Harry to control himself. Literally. So Harry devoted himself to studying the path they were taking to the Charms professor's office. He hadn't really ever been this way before. Harry had tended to stay amongst the Gryffindors while he was still in school. He didn't have any real reason to explore the other Houses. His best friends were in the same House as he, and members of other Houses tended to look upon him with more suspicion than those in his own. Of course, he occasionally had an interest in a member of another House – always female and never for long enough for him to actually visit their dorms. Harry found himself wondering how well Hermione knew people outside Gryffindor. There were plenty of times that he and Ron had left her alone, so perhaps she had made friends outside their House. 

That would certainly explain why she knew the way to Professor Flitwick's office so well. Or maybe that was because she had spent more time with other professors. Harry had been so busy during his years that he never really thought about asking for them for help. Besides, he had Hermione. She was better than them all. 

To Harry's surprise, Hermione stopped at a full-size door. He had been entertaining notions that Professor Flitwick's room would be tiny, requiring students to be constantly on guard that they not knock their heads against the ceiling. Hermione caught his look and raised an eyebrow. "Professors do open their offices to students, Harry," she said. "So it makes sense that Professor Flitwick's office is of normal size. Besides, there is more room for books that way." 

That made sense. He should have thought of that before. Especially in light of the fact that Professor Flitwick was one of their kinder professors. He wasn't like Snape, who might have had a small room just for the pleasure of watching all the students who came to see him bump their heads time and time again. Not that Harry thought that anyone ever saw Snape. Who would want to see that greasy git, who wouldn't be any help anyway? 

Hermione rapped sharply at the door, and a muffled voice told them to come in. Hermione opened the door and stepped inside, with Harry following. He blinked a couple of times. It was incredible how many books were stored in this room. The shelving that lined the walls was almost completely full, and the floor was strewn with piles of books that never made it to those shelves. 

"Ah! Miss Granger! Mr. Potter! This is a pleasant surprise," the Charms professor greeted them. He was seated at a table in the middle of the room, drinking a cup of tea. "Would you like some tea?" Hermione nodded, and gracefully navigated her way around the room, leading Harry to believe that she had been here before. Certainly, she avoided all the book piles as though she was used to doing so. Harry followed after, but more slowly so he could avoid all the obstacles in his path. 

"How are you, professor?" Hermione asked politely as she sat down. 

"Good, good. Better now that you came to see me." He beamed at them. "I always thought, Hermione, that you were more in love with Mr. Potter than you cared to admit . . . and I'm glad to see that your feelings are returned." Flitwick caught Harry gaping at him, astonished that Hermione had fancied him during Hogwarts and that the professor had known. "And just because I am not the tallest professor in residence, does not mean that I do not have eyes to see with. On the contrary, it can be easier to observe things from my sight because people don't expect you to do so. It was obvious that Hermione had lost her heart to you long ago." He smiled. "Now, it seems you have done the same. Which is very good. I like seeing happy endings when it comes to my favorite students." 

"Thank you," said Hermione. 

"Don't mention it," said Flitwick. "Though I suspect your ending would have come sooner if you only had a bit more courage about the whole deal." 

"More proof that the Sorting Hat made a mistake when it put me in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw?" Hermione asked wryly. 

"That? No! There are very few who are able to be brave in love. The man who fears not to risk his life may fear speaking to the one he loves." The professor sighed. "It's one of the saddest things about human nature." 

"Yeah," Hermione said. "To be brave and tell the one you love about your love—that's scary because you're putting yourself on the line with no guarantee that your love will be returned. But few things in life are guaranteed, so maybe I should've been . . . ." 

"No, Hermione," said Harry, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "No regrets, love. It might not have worked. I might not have been ready. Just be happy that we have what we have right now." 

"That may be one of the wisest things you ever said, Mr. Potter," said Flitwick. "But I suppose we have fulfilled the requirements of small talk by now. So tell me, Hermione, what brings you here? I've heard that you've been locked up in the library again, so I know it cannot be pleasure." He tilted his head to one side, as though considering what he had just said. "Though if it were only you, maybe it would be for pleasure. But it can't be with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley around. Mr. Weasley in particular seeing how he managed to get you kicked out." 

Harry's jaw dropped yet again. "You know about that?" 

"The walls have eyes and ears, Harry," Hermione reminded him with a roll of her eyes. "She told you about it, didn't she?" Hermione stated more than asked. 

"Yes, she does prefer the library. She was much amused to see you there again—reminded her of old times, she said—and was laughing her head off when the three of you got kicked out." It took Harry a moment to realize that Hermione and Flitwick were talking about the Gray Lady, Ravenclaw's resident ghost. 

"Please tell her I am most sorry about the disturbance, when you see her again," Hermione was saying. "It certainly wasn't my intent to be a nuisance to everyone in the library." 

"Hermione, I hardly believe that any students were getting any work done as it was. They were all too busy staring at you and Mr. Potter here. You have made the papers as of late," said Flitwick. "And is that why you're here? To look up Concealment Charms? As I thought you knew all about them." 

"Oh I do. Well, I wouldn't say I know everything about them, but I know a fair deal. I spent a good bit of my last year studying them," said Hermione. "We were researching another spell. The _Enchantus _charm." 

Flitwick almost fell backwards out of his chair. Harry rose from his seat to help him, but the professor righted himself and waved Harry off. "I'm fine. Just a little shocked." He gazed sternly at Hermione. "That's more of an enchantment proper than a charm, Hermione. Hence its name." 

"Yes, yes. But its component parts are essentially charms," Hermione argued. 

"Component parts?" Harry asked. This conversation was rapidly going over his head. "Anyone mind slowing down for the Charms dunce here?" he asked. 

Hermione sighed. "You're hardly a dunce, Harry. You simply never applied yourself as much as you should. And before you say anything, I know perfectly well that you had to worry about staying alive and all that. But you have to admit, you slacked off plenty of times." 

"That is why he wasn't threatened with being placed in Ravenclaw," Flitwick said mildly. "But to answer your question, Mr. Potter, the _Enchantus _spell is a hybrid charm. If you want to call it one, but I shall save that argument for another day." 

"And that means?" Harry was still confused. 

"That means that it's kind of made up of a set of different charms," Hermione told him. "For _Enchantus_, it consists of a harmonization charm, a transportation charm, and a binding charm to be very general." 

"All of those are quite powerful as well," said Flitwick. "Which makes that particular charm quite difficult to create." 

"Is that why you made it, Hermione?" Harry regretted saying those words when he saw the reaction of his companions. Hermione winced, and this time around, Flitwick did fall out of his chair. 

"You made that enchantment, Hermione?" Flitwick asked sharply. "Don't tell me you didn't research how dangerous it is!" 

"I did! I know how dangerous it is. And I know its drawbacks. But I thought I could work my way around it." 

"So you did make it." Flitwick frowned. "I must say that I am not surprised you were able to accomplish that—I never saw a student with a better head for Charms than you—but I am disappointed that you did so. That is a strong enchantment, Hermione. It's not to be messed with." 

"I know," said Hermione. "I know I shouldn't have made it and I know I shouldn't have tried it but—" 

"You cast that charm." All traces of levity were gone from Flitwick now. "On who, might I ask?" 

"Myself," Hermione said, as though insulted. "I wouldn't want to try it out on anyone else. Especially as I had modified it." 

"Merlin! I thought you were smarter than that! To cast a dangerous charm with untested modifications on yourself?" Flitwick shook his head in disbelief. "If you were still a student here, that confession would land you a month's worth of detentions. But enough. I am glad you came to see me about the subject. Did it work?" 

Hermione nodded. "I thought so. I was transported to where Harry was right away." 

"I see." Flitwick scratched his chin. "Did you use Richenda's shortcut for the harmonization?" 

"Yes. Not that one has much choice." 

"Care to explain why?" Harry asked wearily. He was beginning to feel out of place here, but he wasn't about to leave. He wanted to know everything about this charm that Hermione cast on herself. That way maybe he could be of some help when it came to ridding her of it. 

"Oh. Sorry about that, Mr. Potter," said Flitwick. "As Hermione said before, part of the charm is a harmonization one. Basically, the stated purpose of the charm is to take you where you are most needed. For that to occur, the charm must harmonize itself with different individuals to determine their need for the bearer of the charm. In theory, this harmonization should occur with everyone in the world for the charm to take you where you are most needed." 

"Really?" Harry's mind boggled at the thought of how much magic that would require. 

"Yes, really," said Hermione. "And you can see the problem already. It's not very practical, because it takes too much power to harmonize a single charm with every breathing person. You'd die of the magical drain before harmonizing with even all of London. So Richenda's shortcut is used instead. It . . . well, basically, we all have ties—bonds if you will—to other people. The closer we are to them, the stronger those bonds are. So Richenda's shortcut says that for a general harmonization like this one, you should take advantage of those bonds." 

"So the charm harmonizes with the people closest to its bearer first. It then harmonizes with the people closest to those people. And so on and so forth. Theoretically, this should reach everyone in the world, but that never happens in real life. How far one can bounce the harmonization off the bonds is based on the strength on those bonds. Hermione is very close to you, so probably her charm can reach your friends' friends' friends. For those she's not as close to, the charm might stop with them," Flitwick said, finishing up the explanation. 

"Oh." Harry sat back to digest this. Everything was starting to make sense. "Is that why it took her to Malfoy?" he asked. "Because eventually her bonds to him became strong enough that he was included in the harmonization." 

The professor looked sharply at him and then at Hermione. "I thought you said that the charm took you to Harry," he said. 

"It did," she replied. 

"Then why . . . ?" 

"Because I think just recently it took me to Malfoy. And then back to Harry again," Hermione said quickly. 

"Hermione, it's a one time use charm. Once it takes you to Harry, that's the end of it. Well, the end of the harmonization and transportation parts. The binding portion is still in effect." 

Hermione looked down at her hands, which was never a good sign. Harry braced himself for the bad news that he knew was coming. "Well, I did say I changed the charm. I didn't like the binding portion—I wanted to go where I was needed, but I didn't like the idea of always having to be with the one who the charm took me to. So I changed that part." 

"How? That was an integral part to the charm," said Flitwick. "Others have tried it in the past, but Enchantus just doesn't work unless you have a hybrid of all three." He sighed. "There are just so many things we do not understand yet. It should work with just two, but it does not. There appears to be an extra factor that we do not know about. But I should stop before I go off on a tangent. Did you take it completely out?" 

"No," said Hermione. She bit her lip. "I realize now how stupid this was, but I changed the target of the binding charm. Instead of binding myself to the person found by the harmonization charm, I bound myself to the charm." 

This time Harry wasn't the only person in the room whose jaw dropped. "Hermione," said Flitwick, "I'd have to look into this more closely, but I think that would create a permanent charm on you." 

"It can't be, professor!" Hermione said, her voice rising with panic. "There's always a counterspell. Always!" 

"Yes. There has to be," Harry added. 

Flitwick sighed. "Of course, there ought to be a counter. There ought to be a counter to every spell and hex out there. Every action has its reaction, if you want to put it in those terms. But that doesn't mean we know all the counters. Hermione here should know better that than most." 

"I do," she said. "I do know that. And I know I shouldn't have cast that charm . . . but I just wanted to have a place where I was needed. And that charm seemed like the perfect solution." 

"I guess we should just be grateful that you never cast it while you both were in school," Flitwick stated. "For while Hogwarts' wards ought to block most transportation charms . . . between your bond with Mr. Potter and how strong that charm is in life-and-death situations . . . well, best not to think of that," he said as he caught the look on Harry's face. "It did not happen, so let us not linger on all the unpleasant things that might have been." 

_That's easy for him to say_, Harry thought. _If Hermione had . . . while I was fighting . . . . _Harry suddenly found it hard to breathe. _She could have died. And I would've been able to do nothing._

This time, it was Hermione reaching for his hand to comfort him. "I didn't, Harry. And I knew better. I knew that you didn't need any surprises or distractions. Though I'd like to think I wouldn't have been either," she said. 

"I . . . I . . . . " Merlin, I must sound so stupid! I can't even speak right. 

"I'm here, Harry," Hermione said emphatically. "With you. And if I have it my way, I never want that to change." 

"But to have it that way," said Flitwick, "you need to find that counter. You are certainly welcome to peruse my personal library. There are some books that I have here that may be of use. Let me get them for you." He got up and walked to the shelves, with both Harry and Hermione following after. Hermione took the books from the professor as he took them down from their places, and Harry promptly took the books away from Hermione to carry them. She smiled at him in thanks, as it turned out that Professor Flitwick handed her almost a dozen books. Harry was having trouble carrying everything around, before Flitwick gave Hermione permission to cast a shrinking spell on them. 

"That's all I have here," said Flitwick. "But I think it's a good start. Were you thinking of going elsewhere?" 

"I was thinking I should check out the library at Longbourne," said Hermione. 

"No, no," said Flitwick slowly. "I don't think they'd have anything that would help you there. If you had a problem with Transfiguration, that would be the first library to visit, but not with an advanced charm and borderline enchantment like this one. I think, if you're not going to go outside Britain, that our own library will best suit your needs." Flitwick paused, his face wrinkling up as though he had just had an idea. "Come here tomorrow. I might be able to help you then with a temporary fix." 

"But I—" Hermione stopped herself before she could finish. Harry knew that she was going to say that she had work tomorrow, but he thought she could owl in sick instead. This was more important than anything else. At least he thought so. And he hoped Hermione did as well. 

"I'll be here," Hermione said finally. "And thank you for all your help." Harry barely held in a sigh of relief. For a minute there, he thought that she wouldn't leave off work to try and find a counterspell. Harry knew Hermione took her work seriously, but getting herself free of this charm was more of a priority. Because he would have trouble sleeping at night if it was on her as he would always be wondering if she would be there when he woke, if she would be safe when he woke. 

Hermione flashed a small smile at him. "I know," she said. "We both need me to find a counter. Because you'll worry about me and I'll worry about you worrying about me and . . . we both need the counter. And I intend to find one."   


**Author's note:** I hope everyone liked this week's installment. The next one should be up on Friday once again. I'd appreciate it if you could take the time to leave me a review. And I'd like to thank **danielerin**, **lynn joe**, **Shawn Pickett**, **Leah6, Fatima**, **ExalibursZone** (there will be more on the charm at Hogwarts in the next chapter), **Erik MacRorie**, **Sheilalein**, **maverick**, **Amynoelle** (I should update Seasons tomorrow), **SilverFoot**, **juliet's rose**, **malu**, **LeslieGlady**, **lee74**, **Star19** (well, I can't think anyone would try to keep the Trio from visiting their old haunts), **HermionePotter17**, **Rincewind**, **Hermione2567**, **paochicute**, **ravenclaw's heir** (getting to that part might take some time), **Bladefanatic**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **bishtawiman**, **myman-harry526**, **Jabba1**, **hpfanmelissa**, **Jenna Kathleen** (well, those hints were a bit obvious), **Fire-bound heart**, **Izabel**, **RogueBHS**, **Irish Dancing Girl**, **Falling**, **Siriusgalforever**, **Ramy** (she can't literally be split in two, if that makes you feel better), **I-Love-Logolas**, **NellasLissesul** (no, this one still has a little way to go before being completed), **casey windsor**, **goldenphoenix217 **(then someone will get an eyeful) and **Mark Turnlach **(he doesn't know about the charm right now so it'd be hard for him to manipulate it) for their reviews of the last chapter. 


	25. Chapter Twenty Five : Both Hands Full

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Twenty Five : Both Hands Full**

For all her words of yesterday, Hermione did feel guilty about owling in sick. She supposed that it was good that she and Malfoy didn't have as much work as before, but she still felt guilty. But the look on Harry's face told her that he would have a hard time stomaching her refusing to see Professor Flitwick simply because she had work. And he had already been so understanding that Hermione didn't think it would be fair for her not to go today. So she was being unfair to Malfoy instead. 

Somehow, it seemed like Malfoy was always getting the short end of the stick from her lately. Hermione didn't mean to treat him poorly. Indeed, she had come to regard him as a friend – albeit one more prone to sarcasm than even Ron. But she didn't trust him like she trusted both Harry and Ron. Hermione thought that she could never trust him like that, not after everything that he had said to her and done to her friends. But it was heartening to know that they could make a peace of sorts. Yet it was that newfound closeness that made her feel guilty, that made her feel like she didn't deserve to be his friend because she usually treated him so poorly. Hermione couldn't even assuage her guilt by promising to make it up to Malfoy, as Harry would probably take it the wrong way. And she couldn't blame Harry for that, especially as it appeared that Malfoy needed her almost as much as Harry did. 

Thank goodness that it appeared that Harry had yet to figure that one out. That would be cause for an explosion from him if ever there was any. Hermione had seen enough of his temper while in school to know that it wasn't something to be provoked. She hoped that at the very least she was able to find some sort of counter to the charm before he realized what it meant for the charm to have sent her to Malfoy. That was probably reason enough to justify her leaving Malfoy to his own devices at work today, in a rather twisted manner. Of course, she could have come in and only taken a half day off, for Professor Flitwick had asked her to come at one since he had morning classes and a couple things to arrange, but that would have necessitated her explaining why she needed the rest of the day off to Malfoy. All things considered, it was just easier for her to take off the whole day. 

That meant she had nothing to do until the afternoon. Hermione had already cleaned the flat she shared with Harry. It was now sparkling. That hadn't taken long, given that the both of them were relatively neat and that Hermione was not against the use of magic to help in household chores. Why get on your knees to scrub the floors when you could magic the cloth to do so by itself? There wasn't anything she needed to do for Crookshanks and Hedwig either, aside from feed them. All in all, they were both low maintenance pets, unlike Ron's Pig who was very much the attention hog. Finally, Hermione settled for taking one of the tomes that she had borrowed yesterday and reading it, hoping to find something that would be of use to her. 

Time passed quickly after that, and before she knew it, it was time for her to leave. Hermione quickly checked to make sure Crookshanks and Hedwig were fine, before taking off. Once at the school, she ignored the stares she received from some of the younger students. It was one thing to see an old student at Hogwarts during the weekend, when they might be visiting old friends but quite different to see one during the week. Add that to the fact that she was one of the famous (or infamous, depending on who you asked) Gryffindor Trio and Harry Potter's current girlfriend, and there were plenty of reasons for the younger students to stare. Hermione began to sympathize with what Harry had to go through. It wasn't very pleasant, to be looked at as if you were some strange specimen to study. Hermione waved a quick hello to Ginny and the other students she knew, before pelting up the stairs that would take her to Professor Flitwick's office. When she reached it, she knocked on the door and opened it, after receiving permission to do so. 

To her surprise, the Charms professor was not alone. Sitting across from him and sipping a cup of tea was Professor McGonagall. 

"Welcome back, Hermione," said Flitwick. "I hope you don't mind but I took the liberty of telling Minerva about your little problem here—" 

"I hardly think it counts as a little problem," said the Transfiguration professor sternly, tsking at Hermione. "I would have thought that you had more sense than that Miss Granger. To use a dangerous charm such as that, which you had modified on yourself. That was not smart at all." 

"I know," said Hermione, hanging her head. She shuffled further into the room, allowing the door to close, not wanting anyone else to witness this. "I know it was stupid, but I can't regret it. There has been some good to come out of it," she said. 

"If you are referring to your current relationship with Mr. Potter—" 

"Minerva!" said Professor Flitwick reproachfully. 

"No, Filius, I will have my say," responded McGonagall. "Miss Granger, for all her intelligence, has taken many actions that I would deem unwise and I cannot allow her to continue believing in the lie that it was this charm that brought them together." 

"But it did!" Hermione protested. "If I hadn't used it, I would've never—" 

"That is exactly right. You would have never done anything," said McGonagall. "And you should know better than most that things will not change unless you are brave enough to take action. If you ask me, I think that you and Mr. Potter may have been together long before this, if you simply had had the courage to tell him how you felt for him." Hermione simply continued to look at the floor. "It was obvious to me, and to others as well, that the two of you were too close to be only friends. How things would have turned out, I do not know. But I do know that you cannot credit the charm for bringing you together, when you could have done that so easily yourself." 

"It's nice to think that," said Hermione. "That we would have been together even if I didn't—" 

"No, Hermione. I did not say that. You should listen more carefully. I said you would be together before this if you had taken the time to talk to Harry about the way you felt." Professor McGonagall sighed. "But I do not mean to lecture you the entire day. I simply wanted to point out that this could have happened long before this." Hermione didn't respond to her old professor, and the room was uncomfortably silent for several minutes. Finally, Professor Flitwick spoke up. 

"Do sit down, Hermione, and have a spot of tea. I made enough for all of us." He gestured her towards a seat. "You might as well settle down as it will take us some time to cover all that needs to be discussed." Hermione walked forward and took the seat that Flitwick had pointed at. She carefully took the cup of tea he offered for it was very full, and add a bit of milk and sugar to it. While doing that, she decided it was best just to cut to the heart of the matter. Maybe Professor McGonagall was right about her and what could have been. But it did not good to linger on what might have happened and it was better to focus on the problem currently before her. 

"Yesterday, you mentioned," Hermione began, her eyes focused on the table in front of her as she wasn't daring enough to look at either professor, "that you might know of a counter." 

"Not a counter, per se." Flitwick sighed sadly. "If I thought I might know of one, I would have researched it by now. A counterspell like that would be enough to warrant a rather significant raise." He grinned cheekily at McGonagall, who merely sniffed and drank her tea. "But no, not a counter to the charm. Rather a temporary solution. I do not know how to reverse all the effects of the charm, but I can think of one way to stop its most obvious action – that of transporting you to people you need." 

"You do?" asked Hermione. "But even the wards on our flat wasn't enough to stop that. And I did the calculations several times and Harry checked them over himself to make sure they had no flaws he could see." 

"I have no doubt," said Professor Flitwick, "that the wards on your flat are as strong as can be for wards that were made by only a pair of wizards. The wards on Hogwarts, however . . . well, perhaps this is a subject best covered by Minerva." 

McGonagall set down her cup and faced Hermione. "The wards on Hogwarts are literally over a thousand years old. They are the product of all its Headmasters and many of its professors. Though the protections had been damaged during You-Know-Who's time, the vast majority of them remain." She smiled bitterly. "And you know that even he had to resort to a very powerful portkey to pull Harry away from here. Professor Flitwick here believes that the transportation side of the Enchantus charm is close enough to Apparation, that our wards to prevent that will be effective on the charm as well." 

"Yes, yes," said Flitwick excitedly. "You see, most anti-Apparation wards tend to be very specific because they take a lot of energy to create. But here, we have the luxury of having groups of wizards working on the wards and so in the past, the wards have set to be broader than just simple Apparation. Not so broad as to include the method of transport that House Elfs use, but broad enough that I think that they will stop the _Enchantus _charm." He paused. "In most cases," he added slowly. 

"In most cases?" Hermione asked. "What do you mean by that?" 

"I . . . it is a very powerful charm, Hermione, and you are a very powerful witch. I would not underestimate the strength of the spell that you have created," said Flitwick. 

"For goodness sakes' stop going about it so slowly, Filius," said McGonagall testily. "You should know, Miss Granger, that the stronger the need—" 

"The stronger the response of the charm," Hermione finished. 

"Yes. So if the need is strong enough, it might be able to get past the wards that Filius was speaking of. This is entirely hypothetical, of course, but Filius thinks—and I am inclined to agree with this conclusion—that in a life and death situation, your charm might be able to break through the wards to transport you to the person who needs you most." 

"I see," said Hermione. "That makes sense." She frowned. "But what doesn't make sense is how you expect that to help me. I'm not a student anymore, so I can't very well live here." 

Flitwick looked at McGonagall expectantly, only to be disappointed. Clearing his throat, he said, "Yes, you're not a student. But I personally think that you have the qualifications to be a professor here." Hermione gaped at him. "Not a full-fledged one, of course," he qualified. "But you could start as an assistant and we could see were it went from there." 

"While I do not need an assistant of any sort," said McGonagall, "I am sympathetic to your situation and I could use one. Again, I stress that I do not need one. But I am willing to let you help me with my classes. I was thinking you could teach the older students, while I handled the younger." She smiled suddenly. "Oddly enough, it is the first year of Transfiguration that tends to be the most difficult and dangerous for students. While teaching the later years is not an easy assignment, it is not as strenuous." 

Hermione sat back, her mind boggling. She had never expected an offer like this to be given to her. Certainly not after the lecture McGonagall had given her. Not that Hermione was set against teaching—in fact, she had always considered it as an option, if she could get an offer to teach anywhere. But to teach at Hogwarts? Which was one of the finest magical institutions in the entire world? It was simply astounding. 

Professor Flitwick coughed. "Before you think that you are being a burden on us, I would like to note you taking on some of the Transfiguration classes would given Minerva more time to deal with her new duties as Headmistress. Not that she needs the time, of course, but she could always use it." 

"Of course," said Hermione, though she understood what he was saying. It would help them as well, for McGonagall had been looking weary the last time they visited Hogwarts on Hermione's birthday. Still, while the solution sounded wonderful, it had its problems. "I suppose that means you'd expect me to live here, but I have a flat in London that I'm sharing with Harry and I couldn't just leave him hanging there all alone," she said. 

The two professors exchanged a glance. "On that count," said McGonagall, "it is not unheard of for a professor to share her room with someone else. Though it would have to be done as discreetly as possible and there should be no displays in front of students." 

"Oh. I didn't know that," said Hermione. 

"Exactly," said McGonagall. "Though in your case, people would know that simply because of the status you two share in the Wizarding World . . . but there should be no cause for students seeing anything that is better suited to the gossip column here between a professor and someone else." 

Hermione drained her cup before speaking. She needed the time to gather her thoughts, but once she had finished drinking the tea, she found that she needed more time. Fortunately, she knew of a way that she thought she could get that time. "It is a lovely offer," she said, "and I am very much tempted to say yes here and now . . . but I think I ought to speak to Harry about this before I do that." 

"Very good," said McGonagall approvingly. "That is the smartest thing I have heard you say all day. It gives me hope that I was not wrong about you." She leaned forward and patted the younger witch's arm gently. "Do speak with Mr. Potter about it. There is no rush. You can take your time. Just make sure that whatever decision you make, you make it together."   


**Author's note:** I would very much like it if you'd take the time to leave a review for me soI can know what you think of this chapter. And I'd like to thank **danielerin**, **Shawn Pickett**, **lynnjoe**, **ExcalibursZone**, **Ramy**, **HrryPttrFreak87**, **lee74**, **animagus-steph**, **Star19**, **Wytil**, **LeslieGlady**, **mikeus**, **sally**, **myman-harry526**, **juliet's rose**, **PottersFan33**, **xxbabysparklesxx**, **hpfanmelissa**, **Leah6**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **bishtawiman**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Zekintha**, **falling**, **Jabba1**, **malu**, **Bladefanatic**, **TheWraith1**, **casey windsor**, **Orlando's Gurl**, **AnnieT**, **Laurie Johnson**, **ravenclaw's heir**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **paochicute**, **Erik MacRorie**, and **Wohsi **for their reviews of the last chapter. Thanks so much! 


	26. Chapter Twenty Six : Heart Moving

**

* * *

Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Twenty Six : Heart Moving**

Saying that she had to speak with Harry was easier than actually doing so. Between the time that she left Hogwarts and arrived back at the flat, Hermione had thought up of a myriad of objections that he could possibly have to the plan. She wrung her hands as she waited him to come back home. Hermione had to tell him about the offer she had received, for he had been there when Flitwick had mentioned that he might know of a way to solve her problems. She hoped that this conversation wouldn't go too poorly. In a worst case scenario, she could see him marching out the door, never to return. 

She didn't dare hope for a best case scenario. 

When Harry finally did come home, Hermione leaped up from her seat, eager to greet him. She buried her face in his chest and clung to him tightly, hoping that he wouldn't take the news too badly. He bent down, breathing in the scent of her, before picking her up and carrying her back into their flat. 

"Missed you too, love," he whispered softly, and Hermione knew he was smiling. "I don't suppose you have good news for once." 

That was almost enough to start her crying once again, but she had sworn earlier to be stronger than that. She gulped nervously, before telling him the truth. "Not exactly good news. Professor Flitwick thought of a way to neutralize one part of the charm, but that's it." 

"That's better than nothing. If one part is neutralized, it can't work, can it?" asked Harry. He placed her gently on the couch and took the seat next to her. 

"No, I suppose it can't." Hermione found that she couldn't bear to look at him because she knew he was going to be so disappointed. "He suggested that I ought to consider going back to Hogwarts. Because the wards there are powerful enough to stop me from suddenly being transported to somewhere else." 

Surprisingly, there was little reaction from Harry. He merely said, "I thought that only professors and students could live there." 

"Yes. There is that. So they offered me a place as an assistant Transfiguration professor. I wouldn't be teaching everyone—mainly the third years to the sixth years. Which is more than enough to start with, I suppose." 

"So you accepted, right?" 

"No." 

"And why not?" 

"Because I wanted to talk it over with you first," explained Hermione. 

"What is there to talk about?" said Harry. "We can't . . . you can't go on, never knowing when the charm might activate. It's a good idea that just might work. You really do need to try it." 

"But I thought . . . we have this flat here and—" 

"I know." He sighed. "I have become used to being able to wake up next to you, but if it's between that and your safety, I'll chose your safety every time." 

"Oh! They said you could stay there as well, so long as we didn't make spectacles of ourselves." 

"Not that we would be likely to," Harry noted dryly. "I've had enough of the spotlight to last me several lifetimes. But I really am confused now. Why didn't you say yes right away? Isn't teaching something you always wanted to do anyway?" 

"Well, yes it is," said Hermione. She twiddled her hands together nervously. "I really do want to do it, as it's what I've dreamed of doing. But I thought maybe you wouldn't want to do it. That you wouldn't want to lose this flat, that you wouldn't want to be stuck in Hogwarts again." 

"We shan't lose the flat. I hardly think you'll be paying anything to stay at Hogwarts, so we can keep it up. And I think that would be nice, for us to have a place to get away to once you do find a permanent fix." All of a sudden, his mood turned from jovial to solemn. "Frankly, it might be a good idea for you to take up that job offer regardless of the charm. I'm afraid that I still have enemies out there . . . and now that everyone knows about us, you've become a prime target." 

"Say that I've become an even bigger target and you'd be closer to the truth," said Hermione bluntly. She gathered her courage and lifted her eyes to meet Harry's. To her surprise, there wasn't any anger in them at all, though it would be so easy and so understandable for him to be upset with her and the whole situation. The only things she saw in his eyes were love and concern for her. It made her feel so small for not believing in him like she should have, and she vowed to trust him more. She had to. She had already given him her heart. Once that had happened, she had no choice but to trust him to keep it safe and never break it. 

"I know," he was saying. "But I'm still sorry that—" Hermione raised a finger to his lips to forestall his apology. 

"No. You don't have to be sorry, Harry. If anything, I'm the one who should be apologizing for making such a mess of this situation . . . things could've been much easier if I'd just asked if you wanted a roommate, rather than using that charm. I would have never been in this mess if I had been honest with both you and Ron, and told you how lost I felt when we were approaching the end of our school days. But I didn't and the thing I most regret is how it's affected you." Hermione bit her lip. She did feel guilty about not doing everything she should have done, with never telling Harry how she felt before. 

"Maybe you—and I—haven't always made the best choices, but at least we're together now, and that makes up for everything. And I'm not interested in might-have-beens, because my life might have been different if so many things hadn't happened. But they did and it's awful, but I have you . . . and for that I'm grateful." He pulled Hermione into his lap and his embrace. "So, you'll owl back to say that you'll take the job?" he asked. "You can borrow Hedwig if you like." 

"I'll do that," said Hermione. 

"Sooner's better than later," Harry said, a mischievous grin covering his face. "Before McGonagall remembers all the trouble we got into while we were there as students." 

"What do you mean, all the trouble we got into?" Hermione asked. "As I remember it, you and Ron were always getting into trouble, and I had to go and save your sorry hides." 

Harry gave her a look of injured innocence. "Hermione! Remember second year? Whose idea was it to break into Snape's cabinet and make that potion illegally?" 

Hermione tossed her head, ready to give as good as she got. "That was only because I was trying to stop the two of you from getting yourself expelled by attacking Slytherin students. You know Snape would've expelled you if you ever gave him such an opportunity." 

"And so your brilliant plan to stop our expulsion was to steal from Snape? Hermione, that sounds hare-brained enough to have been concocted by Ron," Harry said. 

"I was twelve. Twelve years old, and I had to deal with the likes of you two. You got to give a girl a break if sometimes she didn't always think her plans through," Hermione reasoned. That earned her a pillow tossed directly at her face. "Gah! Fine, fine! I know when I'm not wanted here." She turned around to march into the kitchen, only to be pulled back by a pair of strong hands. 

"Not wanted here? Hardly." Harry bent down to kiss her. "I don't think anyone could ever want you more than me." 

Hermione smiled slyly, tilting her hips against his. Feeling him harden against her made her feel so incredibly sexy. "I certainly hope so," she whispered. "Now let me write that letter so we'll have the rest of the night free." 

Reluctantly, Harry let go of her and Hermione trotted off into the kitchen to find a bit of parchment. When she had done that, she scribbled off a quick note to McGonagall, saying that she would be more than happy to accept the position at Hogwarts. She tied the letter firmly to Hedwig's leg, who looked a little cross at being sent out so late but nonetheless spread her wings and set off. That task done, Hermione returned to the living room, to find Harry nearly doubled over with laughter. 

"Care to let me in on the joke?" she asked, leaning against the doorway and looking at him in askance. _What could have set him off like that? _she wondered. _I wasn't away for that long._

"I just thought . . . of one . . . drawback to you teaching at Hogwarts," he said between bouts of laughter. 

"And that is?" she prompted. "The fact that I won't be able to visit you at lunch any more?" 

"Oh, there's that as well. Which is too bad." He frowned. "Maybe I'll just visit you instead. Besides you'll probably need my help to fight off your fan club."__

_Okay, he's lost it. It's time to call the mediwizards at St. Mungo's for him._ "Harry, this is me we're talking about. Not you, remember?" 

That only set him off once again. Hermione tapped her foot impatiently against the floor as she waited for him to calm down. Several minutes later, he had recovered enough to say, "I knew you'd say that. I don't think you realize how many blokes wanted you while we were at Hogwarts." He positively smirked at her. "You were on the list of the most shaggable witches at Hogwarts, you know." 

Hermione refused to be baited like that. "I know that there is no such list, and if there happened to be one, I wouldn't be on it." 

"Oh, no official list as such. Who'd want to write that down? Someone would find that out. But trust me Hermione, you were on all versions. If only for being completely unobtainable." 

Hermione crossed the distance between them and poked him sharply in the chest, making Harry wince slightly. "Me? Unobtainable? Hardly. If that were true, how would that explain my current boyfriend?" 

"Oh I'm an incredibly lucky bloke, don't you know?" he said. "And it is true. The only person you dated at Hogwarts was Viktor Krum. Who was a internationally famous Seeker to boot. How could anyone compete with that?" 

"Maybe with a pair of green eyes and incredibly messy hair." Hermione ruffled Harry's hair fondly. She loved doing that. "Though I suppose you're an internationally famous Seeker as well. But I still don't think that—" 

"Fine. Just wait till your first day there. The boys in your classes won't know what hit them." Harry snerked. "From McGonagall to you. It'd be like a dream come true for them!" 

"And you're not jealous because . . ." Hermione asked. The fact that he wasn't jealous both amused her—for it let her in on the joke—and rankled her. Not that she wanted him to be the jealous, possessive type, but it would be nice to know that he didn't appreciate competition. 

"Because a bunch of little boys like that will hardly hold any attraction for you, Hermione." He gestured expansively. "You've only dated older wizards for one," he went on. "I figure there's less competition there for me than at your current job." 

"You never know. I might develop a fascination for Snape." Hermione's stomach turned at that thought. Harry's hair was nice to run her fingers through. Snape's hair . . . well, she didn't want to think of that, but it must be nasty given how greasy it was. 

"Thank you Hermione for effectively removing my appetite for today," said Harry. He did look a little green. "And if you ever admit to feeling any sort of attraction to that greasy git, Ron and I will have to take you to St. Mungo's to get your head examined." 

Hermione opened her mouth to laugh at that comment—when she felt the tingle of the charm activating. Desperately, she reached out to Harry, trying to anchor herself to him, but it was no use. The charm would not be denied, and she was pulled away before she could say another word. 

* * *

Hermione had never been the type to frequent bars of any sort. She had only read about them in novels, and somehow, bars had always been shady places. The one she was currently in was worse than any she had ever read about. It was very seedy, very dirty, and very much a place she didn't want to be. Not to mention the fact that she thought that it was possible to get drunk off the fumes in here, the smell of alcohol was that strong. 

On the bright side, however, she didn't land on Malfoy's lap this time. Because that would have meant her landing right on top of the bar and on all those glasses that were piled up in front of him. Having an arse full of broken glass would have just made her situation much, much more untenable. 

Feeling like some fairy godmother in a story gone awry, Hermione resolutely marched towards the bar. Hermione supposed she could have just left Malfoy there—certainly, the charm didn't bind her to the person who needed her most—but she didn't think that would be right. Besides, she didn't know how safe she would be, alone by herself outside the bar. It was clear from its appearance, that this wasn't the sort of place that any Muggle-born witch should be by herself. 

After all, only a bar in Knockturn Alley would call itself, "Faust's Choice." 

"What's wrong, Malfoy?" asked Hermione as she took the seat next to him. For now, her best bet was to try to help him get out of whatever slump he was in. At the least, maybe she could convince him it was time to get out of this dump and return home. If she was lucky, maybe he would stop needing her more than Harry needed her. And she really hoped that Harry wouldn't put together all the pieces this time around. 

Malfoy gave no reply, and Hermione wrinkled her nose. She tried to count the number of shot glasses in front of the wizard, but gave up in disgust. "Merlin! How many have you had Malfoy?" She reached over to take his current glass away from him, but he swatted her hand away. 

"Oh," he said, looking at her with bleary eyes. "It's you." He screwed up his face as he tried to remember her name. "You're . . . my only angel. Angel. Yeah, that's right." He took a swig of his drink. "An angel that's just too good for me. And too good for here. So you must be a dream." He gazed fuzzily at her. "Such a lovely dream though." He reached out to touch her hair, and Hermione jerked away. Malfoy was acting very, very strangely. 

He only sighed at her response. "See? Even dream Angel here doesn't want me. I don't stand a chance with the real one." He finished his drink in one quick swallow and sat the glass down again. 

"Malfoy, you're dead drunk," Hermione told him. _That's kind of stupid for me to say that though. He either knows that or is in no condition to care about whether or not he's drunk_, she scolded herself after saying that aloud. 

"Am I?" Malfoy looked at the bartender. "Am I drunk?" 

The bartender grunted and set another shot in front of Malfoy. "Not drunk enough that you can't handle another drink," he responded. 

"See?" Malfoy said, grinning. "I'm not dead drunk. Because if I was dread dunk, he'd have ignored me and not give me another drink." 

Hermione repressed the urge to shake Malfoy. That might only result in him spewing all over her. "Malfoy," she started, determined to convince him to leave this place. 

"I'm not Malfoy," he corrected her. "That's my dad. And I'm not my dad. I'm . . ." Once again, his brow furrowed as this time around he tried to recall his own name. "I'm . . Dray . . . no, Drake . . . no Drakkie! That's right. I'm Drakkie!" He put down his glass and held out his hand for her to shake. "Nice to meet you Angel."__

_Merlin! Who would have ever thought that Draco Malfoy was a silly drunk? _Hermione pondered silently_. A mean drunk, though that may be typecasting, or even a sobbing sad drunk, but a silly drunk? I can hardly believe it myself, and he's right in front of my eyes._

"You're supposed to shake hands, Angel," Malfoy was saying in front of her. "Angel is supposed to be polite. Even if Angel doesn't like me, she's supposed to be polite. She promised me." Hermione winced, but there was no avoiding it. She shook Draco's hand and he beamed at her. Maybe now that he seemed happy with her, she could convince him to leave. 

"I think you've been here long enough Malf—I mean, Drakkie. Don't you think it's time for you to get home?" she suggested. 

"Hey. Leave a bloke alone with his sorrows and his drink," the bartender called out to her. Hermione glowered in his direction, but that didn't have the effect she thought it would. He put down the glass he was polishing to lean over threateningly at her. "Keep on at it. I know several blokes who'd be glad to take a piece out of you." 

"That would be stupid," Malfoy said, half in a stupor. "Angel is protected by Potter. You mess with Angel, you mess with Potter." At those words, the bartender jerked away from Hermione, as if burned. He slowly backed away from where she sat, but Malfoy went on. "But if you hurt Angel, you get to deal with me. Because I'm not good for much except for beating up people who hurt Angel. Right, Angel?" 

_He is? That would be kind of hard considering he'd have to start with himself. Gah! What am I thinking? He's drunk. Clearly, Malfoy does not know what he is saying. Best to humor him and get him to go home. _"Right, Drakkie," she said. It was so strange to call Malfoy that. "And I really think we should get going home." 

At the mention of home, Malfoy's face scrunched up. "Don't wanna go home," he whinged. "Don't wanna. It's Mum's birthday today . . . and I didn't get her anything, I hardly can keep the manor as it is while paying for a flat in London on top of all that. . . and Mum's so sad without Dad. It's all Dad's fault, but Dad's the only one who can make Mum happy. Drakkie isn't good for anything at all." 

"Yes, you are," said Hermione. _Merlin. I never knew. Poor Draco . . . having to try and keep his ancestral home, and not getting any appreciation for his efforts. His mum always looked like the cold sort . . . strange to think that she was related to Sirius. _"But drinking never solved anything," she went on.. "So let's get going and maybe I can help you." 

"You can?" Malfoy brightened up noticeably at her words. 

"Well, I'll try at least." She stood up and held out a hand to him. "Come on, Drakkie. Let's get you back where you belong." 

He dreamily took the hand she offered and smiled. His head thumped against her shoulder almost as soon as he tried to walk, and Hermione grunted with having to support his weight. But she was able to do so and they were able to walk on out there more or less steadily. That is to say, she was more steady while he was less steady. He curled an arm over her back and sighed happily as she helped him walk home. 

"Angel is with me," he whispered softly, "so all's right with the world." 

That almost broke Hermione's heart. She was with him—but all wasn't right with the world. And one of the major problems from her viewpoint was the fact that she was with him and not Harry. Tears filled her eyes at that thought. Malfoy deserved better than her. He deserved someone who cared for him like she cared for Harry . . . and she hoped one day soon he would realize that. So maybe then he would stop needing her so much and move on to someone who could give him everything that he wanted.   
  


**Author's note: **I hope everyone liked this week's installment. I'd really like to hear from you and so reviews would be muchly appreciated. And thank you to   
**Shawn Pickett**, **danielerin**, **lynnjoe14**, **LeslieGlady**, **Ramy**, **Erik MacRorie** (no, they're way too young), **lee74**, **juliet's rose**, **Writer Josie** (I'm glad to see someone else feels bad for Draco, as he is getting shorted here. But then he tends to get such treatment in most of my fics.), **Amber**, **Orlando's Gurl**, **ExcalibursZone**, **acissiej**, **jennymay**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **Wytil**, **malu** (but isn't it fun to watch her flounder in the mess she's created?), **Allison**, **RogueBHS**, **Jabba1** (and that's why it's a rather makeshift solution), **Cynthia21**, **ravenclaw's heir**, **spacey-me90**, **EuphoniumGurl0** (who knows? I'm not making any predictions.), **BakaAngel **(in one sitting? Ouch.), **Falling**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Leah6**, **Megan** (lol -- am surprised that chapter 20 was unexpected for you, since it seems like a lot of people guessed that something would happen with the charm), **duchesscarml**, **TheWraith1** (when you get to be McGonagall's age, you don't have time to not to be frank ), **Laura Johnson**, **v-weasley**, **hpfanmelissa**, **Ash**, **casey windsor**, **Sheilalein**, **I-Love-Logolas**, **paochicute**, **Magicalfoci **(thank you -- though I must say I was shocked that you like this Ron so much), and **Zekintha **for reviewing the last chapter.


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven : Unending Wish

**Charming**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Twenty Seven : Unending Wish**   
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When Hermione disappeared like that, Harry's heart leapt up into his throat. After a moment of blind panic and frustration, he turned to the fireplace to summon Ron. For while Hermione hadn't suspected it, he and Ron had come up with a plan of attack for the next time she disappeared. 

Not that it was much of a plan. It basically consisted of Harry keeping his wits to summon Ron and the two of them going over to Malfoy's flat to beat the shit out of him. It wasn't a plan that Hermione would approve of, but she wasn't there and that was the source of his problems. That plan would have to do for now, especially as Ron had noted it was one that was likely to lead him back to Hermione. 

Ron needed only one look at Harry's face to figure out what had happened again. "I'll be over there right away, mate, so I'd appreciate it if you'd put the fire out," he said. Harry moved quickly to do exactly that, using one of those dousing spells that Hermione had taught him. Harry had barely moved quickly enough, as Ron was there almost as soon as he had extinguished the blaze. 

"Gah! Hot!" Ron leapt out of the fireplace. "That's one of the things I hate about Floo. It's very uncomfortable if the fireplace has been used in the last several hours. But enough. When did it happen?" 

"Maybe five minutes ago," replied Harry. "And this time around, she knew it was happening. I could see it in her face." He paused, remembering that awful moment when Hermione had reached for him, looking so scared—and he couldn't hold on to her, no matter how hard he had tried. 

"That's good," said Ron. "Because if she can feel it working, maybe that will help her in finding a counter. But that's not important right now. What is important is that we find Hermione." 

Harry nodded. "So do you know where the ferret is?" 

Ron scowled. "Do I keep track of his movements, no. But the twins and I have managed to locate where he lives. I figure that we can head over there first and see if his neighbors has seen him." He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "And if we have to, we can always barge into his flat and demand to know where he's put Hermione." 

_Yeah, Hermione definitely wouldn't like this plan_, Harry reflected to himself. _ But she's not here to critique it and it's the only plan we've got . . . so it has to be good enough. I'll make it good enough. _ "How far away is it?" asked Harry. 

"Not that far," Ron responded. "Though I'm not sure if I want to try Apparating there as I've only the address. I've not actually been there and so—" 

"Better safe than sorry," said Harry. "We'll be no use to Hermione if we splinch ourselves." 

"Too true, mate, too true. Let's go." With that, Ron walked out of the flat and Harry followed, making sure to lock the door behind him. They moved hurriedly, neither one of them saying much, except for Ron to give Harry to occasional direction. Harry wasn't in the mood for talking anyway. He was too caught up with worrying about Hermione. As much as he despised Malfoy, Harry did hope that Hermione had been sent to him. Because at least, they had a chance of locating her. Harry knew that there was no guarantee that Hermione had been transported to Malfoy once again and that was the thing the bothered him the most. If she hadn't been, he wouldn't know where to start looking for her. 

Except maybe he did. Professor Flitwick had said that she had used some sort of shortcut for the harmonization portion. If she wasn't there, then the best thing to do would to be to check up on her other friends. And family. Taking a deep breath, Harry calmed himself down—or tired to. They would find her. Harry wouldn't give up until he did, and he knew that Ron would do the same. 

When they were only a few blocks away from the address that Ron had for Malfoy's flat, Harry spotted something that made him want to both cry in relief and scream from frustration. It was Hermione . . . with Malfoy attached to her waist. Ron suffered from no such split of emotions, as he took out his wand and charged forward. With an example like that, there was little Harry could do except to follow suit. Now wasn't the time to stand there and do nothing, not when Malfoy was far too close to Hermione like that. Besides, Malfoy's hand was going a lot lower than it should on Hermione. That was enough to warrant a very bloody death indeed. 

"Step away from the ferret," Ron was saying from where he stopped in front of Hermione. Hermione was glaring at him. 

"Ron, what are you intending to do?" she asked. 

"Watch and learn, Hermione, watch and learn," was his reply. 

"Ooo," said Malfoy, lifting his head from Hermione's shoulder. "Another slugfest is coming up, Angel. This'll be fun to watch. Don't get to see that every day." If possible, he managed to press himself up even closer against Hermione as he taunted Ron. 

Harry glowered at Malfoy, knowing that the prat was enjoying being close to Hermione, who was supporting him. He could feel himself feeling a cold sort of fury towards the blond wizard for being so opportunistic, with the way he almost draped himself over Hermione. "Hermione," said Harry tightly. "Do what Ron asks." 

Her attention flipped over to Harry. "Harry," she said, her face filled with relief. She smiled faintly. "I'm all right. He hasn't done anything to me, so there's no need for any of this." 

"Not done anything to you?" Ron bellowed, his face turning red with anger. "Hermione, he's hanging all over you!" 

"And if his hand drifts any lower, I swear that I'll forcibly remove it and then stuff it up his arse," Harry growled. His fingers twitched on his wand. It would be so easy to blast the ferret away from his girl, and Harry thought that his aim was probably good enough to accomplish that. The only thing stopping him was the fact that Hermione was right next to the ferret, and he didn't want to take the chance of hurting her. 

"Harry, Ron," said Hermione, "use those eyes of yours, please. Malfoy's drunk. You're not about to thrash a drunk wizard who can't possibly defend himself, are you?" 

"That's the best time to do it," said Ron coldly. 

Hermione bit her lip, something that always made Harry want to snog her. "No you are not, Ronald Bilius Weasley," she said sharply, her tone making Ron take a step back as she invoked his full name. Glancing over at Harry, she added, "And I know my Harry is better than that." 

And that was it. When Hermione put it like that, Harry couldn't let her down. He had to be as good as she thought he was. On most occasions, it wasn't that hard—she was simply helping him decide to do what was right—but this time it was. Because he really felt the need to beat the living daylights out of the ferret, who was taking advantage of the situation entirely. 

"Fine," he snapped. He put his wand away. "I won't. But step away from him, please, Hermione. Before he does something that he regrets." 

"He's drunk," Hermione repeated, as though speaking to a child. "I doubt he can stand on his own." 

"Here," said Ron. He walked over to Malfoy's other side. "Let go of him. I'll take care of him. And no tricks, I promise . . . so long as he tries none on me." Hermione let go of Malfoy as directed and Ron took over supporting him. Malfoy squirmed and tried to lurch in Hermione's direction, saying something about how his angel shouldn't leave. It made Harry regret his earlier decision to do as Hermione wished. Hermione winced and moved to his side, her hand seeking out his as though she needed to be in contact with him. Harry closed his eyes and pulled her up against him. It was good to see her again and even better to touch her again, to feel her once again. And it helped for him to see how she didn't want to be near Malfoy like that and how she immediately sought out comfort from him. 

Malfoy's face fell as he watched the two of them together. "Angel, always goes to Potter, that rotter." He pouted. "While I'm stuck with the Weasel. Two rodents together in a stew." 

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron said. He was still steaming mad, and Harry marveled at Ron's self control. Truly, Ron had better learned to control his temper as he grew up. In his younger years, he would have already been pushing Malfoy into the gutter while thinking up the most horrible hex he could imagine. Now he was still helping the other wizard to stand, when Harry knew Ron really wanted to give Malfoy a beating he'd never forget. "What do you want us to do with him?" Ron asked Hermione. 

"I was trying to take him home," said Hermione. "As I found him doing his best to drown his sorrows and himself in some sleazy bar. But he hadn't been much help when it came to finding his flat." Hermione huffed indignantly. "Honestly! I swear that we've been going around in circles for the last half hour." 

"Sorry, Angel," Malfoy muttered contritely. 

"I've told you before—don't be sorry. Just stop being impossible," said Hermione shortly. It was a line that she appeared to have used before with Malfoy to little effect, and Harry wondered if she would have hexed Malfoy herself before much longer. 

"We can drop him off at his flat," said Ron. "The twins told me where it is." 

"What?" Hermione squawked. "How-and why—would they know something like that?" 

Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "Preparation," he said simply. "In case this happened again, we figured we'd best know where we could lay our hands on Malfoy. And don't look at me like that, Hermione. You were having trouble enough with Malfoy when we came along. It all worked out in the end." 

Hermione glared once more at Ron, before relenting. Ron took the lead, dragging Malfoy beside him, with Harry and Hermione trailing behind. Harry gripped Hermione's hand so tightly that he was surprised that she hadn't said anything to him yet. He had to hold on to her though. He hadn't been able to earlier and now he didn't want to let up at all, just in case she was taken from him again, in case someone needed her more than he did again. 

That thought almost drove Harry to his knees._ How can anyone need her more than me?_ he wondered. _And a git like Malfoy? Who teased and taunted her for half her life? I need her so much . . . whereas all Malfoy needed was someone to take him home. Because he was an idiot who had to go and get drunk. And he wasn't even willing to help her out there. Harry could feel himself getting angry at the whole situation. I wonder if that charm works properly. Or maybe Malfoy had done something incredibly stupid and would've died if Hermione hadn't been there to bail him out. Bah! It's probably that. It has to be that._

"Harry," he heard Hermione whisper from his side, "what's wrong?" 

"Nothing," he said bitterly. "Nothing at all." He regretted saying that so harshly because he knew it hurt her, but he couldn't help it. He hated it, the idea of someone needing Hermione more. It was probably selfish, but there it was. Hermione definitely would think less of him if she knew he thought that way, so he couldn't even tell her about it. It was made him want to scream out of sheer frustration with the entire world for putting him in this position. 

Happily, it did not take them too long to find Malfoy's flat and they dropped him off. Hermione was able to open the front door, by means of an unlocking charm, and Ron unceremoniously dumped Malfoy on the couch. Malfoy lurched up and tried to cling to Hermione as she told him good-bye, and she had to literally pry his fingers off of her. When that was done and Malfoy's door was shut behind them, she turned to Harry and Ron, looking happy to be rid of the prat. "Shall we go home?" she asked with a smile on her face for both of them. 

"Don't you need to stay with him?" Harry spat out. 

Hermione's face crumpled at those words. "Harry . . . ." she said softly. "I don't need to . . . that is, I don't . . . ." She balled her hands into fists and looked directly into his eyes. "Right now, it doesn't matter to me who needs me most. The person I need most and want most is you—and always will be." 

There was really nothing he could say to that.   
  


**Author's note:** And that looks like a perfect place to end for this week. There will not be an update next week. Alas, I've been sick this week and so I've had no time to finish the next chapter, so it's not ready to go to editing. So the update will be in two weeks instead, on June 11th. Sorry, but if I could've avoided being sick, trust me, I would have. Finally, I'd like to thank **Shawn Pickett**, **danielerin**, **cmt0125**, **EuphoniumGurl0 **(I'm no good at writing D/Hr -- they're always sad), **ExcalibursZone** (he's grown up, but he hasn't -- does that make any sense? Cause that is how I write him), **Zekintha**, **SilverFoot**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Leah6**, **Falling** (I think Draco is the most OOC character in this fic, personnally. Well, except for the part about him being a silly drunk. ), **myman-harry526** (either this week or next week, whenever I finish editing that chapter), **Dillion**, **Ailleann**, **Fire-bound heart** (eep? That last one was chapter twenty six?), **juliet's rose**, **Oh-Dear** (that was an interesting start -- but it really was very sweet. Thank you), **cuttiepie17172**, **Jem**, **chemqueen**, **Jade**, **Tiffie101** (though I sometimes speak of AUs, I think this has its proper ending ready for it), **Aristea** (no because Hermione altered the charm so she wouldn't be bound to the person who needs her most, and the transportation part is only activated when someone different needs her more), **Star19**, **RogueBHS** (well, she's not the type to leave a guy there like that), **CookiMonstr08**, **Ramy**, **TheWraith1** (why a girl?), **Orlandopsycho010**, **Amynoelle**, **malu** (no, he's not _that _stupid), **fannnasia** (one never has to apologize for the length of a review, long or short ), **MasterDeath** (somehow when people plead for D/Hr, I'm not moved, though I understand where they are coming from. When people bash it, that's when it starts to look interesting), **Jabba1**, **lee74**, **Korine** (Ginny is in school, and the only two D/G fics from me will be Seasons and the Matchmakers one. Gomen ne. But I'll update my LJ this weekend with more Seasons to make up for it), **Izabel**, **TheGreatFox2000**, **shaznay17**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **acissej**, **paochicute**, **duchesscarml**, **Jenny**, **TiarellaCordifolia** (you're welcome to try and claim him, but you might have competition), **casey windsor**, **sally**, **Crissy Potter**, and **hpfanmelissa **for their lovely reviews. Reading them did help when I was sick. So thanks!   
  
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	28. Chapter Twenty Eight : Fly High

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Twenty Eight : Fly High**

Hermione considered herself fortunate in that the events of the night before hadn't gone too horribly. That had been a recipe for disaster if there had ever been one, especially that part when Harry realized that Malfoy must have needed her more than Harry did for the charm to activate like that. She thought her heart would break, the way Harry had asked if she would rather stay with Malfoy. Of course, she didn't want to stay there. She had hated the way Malfoy had clung to her when she was trying to help him home. It was one thing for Harry to cling to her like that—it was an endearing trait and she loved him. It was another for Malfoy to do the same. Hermione did feel sorry for the Slytherin, but she wasn't about to leave Harry to make Malfoy feel better. 

If only that damned charm would realize that. 

Yet while last night hadn't been a disaster, things hadn't gone too smoothly last night as well. When they had arrived back home, Harry had went straight to bed, never saying a word to Hermione. Hermione wished she knew how she could make it even clearer to Harry that she wanted to be with him, but she wasn't that good with words. So in the past she had tried to rely on her actions instead, but that hadn't been an option for he had went to sleep in his own room, locking the door so she couldn't follow. That had hurt. Oh, Hermione knew she could get in there with a simple charm, but she wasn't about to do that. Maybe it was better to let Harry have his space for one night. Though she longed desperately to tell him that she loved him and that she wanted to be with him, not Malfoy. Hermione would have liked it to be Harry who the charm sent her to, under any circumstances, although the more mature side of her thought it was a good thing that he didn't need her desperately. Certainly, it had never seemed as though he depended on her even after she first arrived. Looking back, Hermione thought that maybe he needed her because he loved her, even back then before they were together. 

She certainly hoped that was the case. 

The next morning, Hermione awoke early, hoping to have the chance to talk to Harry. Unfortunately, he had left early for practice that morning, and she thought for one brief second that he might be avoiding her, before shaking it off. He had told her previously that practices would be starting a bit earlier. 

When Hermione got to the kitchen, she found a response from Professor McGonagall that detailed her appointment to the Hogwarts staff waiting for her on the table. She read the letter over breakfast, before leaving for the day. Which she promptly did when she arrived at work that morning. Her boss had been understanding. While he was sorry to see her go, this wasn't an opportunity that she should pass up, he had told her. Hermione had thanked him for everything, and then they settled on her last day being this Friday. Which was much sooner than Hermione had expected, but was still not soon enough. For she'd have to work with Malfoy until then and something told her that he would not be pleasant once he found out that she was leaving. 

Malfoy himself drifted in late to work. That was unusual as he normally was in before her. When he did arrived, Hermione greeted him cheerfully, but was ignored. From the occasional groan that emitted from his desk, Hermione surmised that he was suffering from a hangover. _Which serves him right for what a bother he was last night_, Hermione thought spitefully. _Though I know he couldn't control himself because he was drunk and all that . . . but we were wandering around that neighborhood forever! Still, I'd best offer a charm to help cure his hangover._

"Need a cure for that hangover?" Hermione offered. 

Malfoy's head shot up as he fixed her with a steely glare. "I'm not hung over, Granger," he said stiffly. 

"Oh please." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Anyone can see that you are. And even if I was naïve and didn't know how one looked, I could tell by the way you were acting that something was wrong. Besides, I saw how much you had to drink last night and—" 

"You what?" Malfoy asked quietly, rising from his seat. He paced over to her desk and stopped to glare at her. "What did you say?" 

Hermione glowered back at him. She wasn't about to be intimidated by the blond wizard, no matter that he was almost a foot taller than her and haughtier than anyone else. "I said it's bloody obvious that you're hung over given how much you had to drink last night," she said, tilting her head upwards. 

"And how would you know that?" he asked. 

"If you don't know, I'm not telling," she replied. _And I'm not_, she thought. _If he doesn't know, then he doesn't need to know. As I do not want him piecing things together. Let him think that it was all a dream._

"So it wasn't a dream then," he said half to himself. "It wasn't a dream. You were really there." Then he snapped back to the current situation. "I swear, Granger, if you ever tell anyone about—" 

"Why would I want to do that?" she snapped. "It was embarrassing enough last night without anyone knowing about it." Hermione felt a stab of pity when she saw him flinch. "But you need not worry. I won't tell anyone about you being a silly drunk and all." 

"Thanks, Granger," he drawled. Then Malfoy buried his face in his hands, groaning once again. "Damn it! Potter and Weasley were there too, weren't they?" Hermione nodded, though that went unnoticed by him. "Great, just great," Malfoy muttered under his breath as he returned to his desk. "Could this day get any worse?" 

That was just asking for Murphy's Law to strike. So of course it was then that their boss stuck his head through the door. "Congratulations once again, Hermione. Oh, and in case she hasn't told you, Draco, she's got an offer from Hogwarts." He smiled proudly at Hermione. "She'll be leaving us to go and teach there. Her last day of work is Friday. So pretty soon, you'll have this office all to yourself." With that being said, their boss left, leaving Hermione to deal with the aftermath. 

"So," Malfoy said casually, "you got an offer to teach at Hogwarts?" 

"Yeah," she replied. "As an assistant professor though. To take over some of the Transfiguration classes." 

"That's a nice plum to fall into your lap though. Considering that you've just finished your education and all that," said Malfoy. 

"I know," Hermione said. _You know, if Malfoy was Ron, he'd be red with anger now_, Hermione reflected. _Though I know he's not Ron and all that . . . but that just makes him harder to read. I _think _he's mad with me, but I'm not sure._

"Can't really blame you for taking that job," Malfoy was saying. "Though I did think you were happy here, as you always seemed the type to love research. And it does make things a little hard on me, seeing as evidently there are no plans to replace you right away." 

"Oh, I'm sure they will," Hermione said brightly. "There's too much work to be done for one person to handle by himself. It might take a couple weeks for them to find someone, but never fear. You'll have a partner again soon enough." 

"In the meantime, I get to do all the work by myself," Malfoy retorted. "And my work hours had finally become reasonable. Guess that was too good to last." 

"Look, Malfoy, I'm sorry," Hermione said. "Really I am. I'm sorry that you'll have to deal with all this by yourself. But I couldn't pass this job up. It's—" 

"Your dream job, yes I know." Malfoy waved a hand at her. 

"And that trip to Greece is coming up, so that will be a nice break for you," Hermione added. 

"If I remember correctly, that wasn't a vacation. It was work. Though one could take some time to relax and enjoy the sights if one had a partner to split the work with . . . but I no longer have that luxury, do I?" 

Now it was Hermione who was getting mad. Yes, she was sorry that she was leaving suddenly. And she felt bad that there was no one to replace her right away. But really! Did he expect her to give up the position at Hogwarts to help him? Because that went to show how much they were not friends. Her friends would never expect her to give up on a dream like that for them. Harry had been so happy for her, even though it meant that they would move again. He had never once suggested that she not take the position, and Hermione knew he would have done the same even if there wasn't that blasted charm hanging over their heads. 

"As I've said before, I'm sorry about this, but I really cannot pass up this chance," Hermione said curtly. "Now as we've already covered this several times, I think I will get back to work. Because the more I get done this week, means that there's less for you to do by yourself next week." 

"How considerate of you," Malfoy replied sharply. "Though how you could accept a job that was offered to you only because you've always been the teacher's pet is beyond me." 

"Sod off, Malfoy." Hermione bit her lip, fuming and wishing she could hex him into oblivion. "I am capable of doing the job and am as qualified as the next witch for it. So you can stuff that shit back up your arse." 

"Is that so, Granger?" Malfoy leaned forward in his seat menacingly. "I love how quickly you forget to be civil." 

"You started it." Hermione got up. "And this is getting me nowhere. I've already apologized more than I should for something that isn't really my fault. And all I've got is insults. So if you excuse me, I think I've something to look up in the library." Hermione grabbed her books off her desk and marched out. But before she could get very far, it happened again. 

And when Malfoy went out in the hallway to follow her, there was no one there. 

* * *

Hermione blinked, trying to figure out where she was. It was raining outside, making it hard to see. But it looked like she was in a Quidditch stadium. Up in the stands of one, that is. And in front of her there was someone, who seemed to be huddled up. It kind of looked like— 

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed and rushed forward. _What happened? _she wondered. _I've not seen him like this for a long time. She embraced him as she reached him, but he merely remained passive. _"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked. "Please say something." 

He heaved a great sigh. "Nothing's wrong, Hermione," he mumbled. "Except that I realized that I'm a giant prat . . . and you won't be wanting me anymore." 

"Harry!" Hermione was shocked. How could he think that? Though fortunately he was in front of her, so she could ask that. "How can you think that?" she asked. "I can't ever imagine not wanting you." 

"Yeah right," he said bitterly. He turned to face her. The rain was tumbling down his face and over his glasses, making it hard for her to see whether he was crying. And it would be a miracle for him to be able to see anything with the current downpour. Hermione took out her wand, intent on casting an Impervious charm on his glasses, but he pulled away from her. "Don't treat me like that," he whinged. "As though I'm a child." 

"I'm not, Harry," Hermione replied reasonably. "I just thought you might like to see is all." 

"See? There you go again." Harry rested his chin against his knees. "Which goes to show that eventually you'll tire of me, because you're sick of taking care of me, and leave me for that . . . ." His voice trailed off, as though he didn't want to finish that thought. 

"I don't see why you'd think I'd get tired of you if I haven't in seven years," Hermione said, with the slightest trace of asperity in her voice. "And in love with you for half that time as well, I might add." She paused, not knowing if she should continue. 

"Yeah, well, Malfoy wasn't really an option for you back then, was he?" Harry spat bitterly. "Unlike now." 

"I don't really think he's an option for me now, either. I don't think he ever will be." 

"Please, Hermione. You don't have to spare my feelings. Tell me how you really feel." Harry suddenly stretched out and stood up, stepping closer to her. "I know he's almost bloody perfect for you." 

"What?" Hermione was shocked. Where did he get that idea? "Whatever makes you think that?" she asked. "Because I most certainly do not agree." 

"For one, he's your intellectual equal or whatever they're calling it now," Harry said, whirling around and starting to pace. "You don't have to take time to explain things to him like you do me." He snorted. "Eventually, I expect that you'll get fed up with my stupidity and—" 

"Harry! You are not stupid!" Hermione reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. He stopped in his pacing and turned around to face her. "You are not! Neither you—or Ron for that matter—are stupid. You simply never applied yourselves as much as you could in school. Not that I'm blaming you or anything like that," she hastened to add, "because I know now that different people like different things . . . and not everyone likes studying like I do but—" 

"That's exactly my point. You two are the same type when it comes to that sort of thing." Harry sighed. "And I'm told that the git is handsome and rich and . . . yeah, so I'm not surprised that you'd fall for him. Especially when he needs you so much." 

"Harry! I'm not the type to fall for someone merely because they're good looking and well off," she said. "Though I would like to add that the handsome and rich part applies to you too." She smiled. "And personally, you win the charming department as well." 

"There's still the fact that he needs you. More than me," Harry said dully. 

"Oh!" Hermione stamped her foot and then took a step forward, bracing herself as she brought up a hand to slap him. "Do you really think that I'm that fickle?" she demanded. "Do you really think that my affection will change just because the charm thinks that someone else needs me more than you? Because I'm not. I'm not that fickle. I'm more constant than that." She hung her head. It hurt to think that he thought of her that way, even though she had always been there for him, even when he hadn't been there for her. 

"No, I don't—" 

"Well, that's what it sounds like to me, Harry Potter. And I've told you and told you . . . it's you that I love . . . and I'm not going to change my mind at the drop of the hat. And certainly not because of some charm that I'm desperate to get rid of. And which, if you haven't noticed, has just brought me here to you." 

"It has, hasn't it?" Harry said quietly to himself. "But I . . . oh Hermione!" He crossed the distance between them and hugged her. "I am a giant prat, aren't I?" 

"You are," Hermione agreed. "But you're the one that I love." She brought up her arms around him, trying to get closer to him. "And the one that I'll always love . . . especially if we can get out of the rain before finishing this conversation." 

"I think I might be able to arrange that," Harry whispered into her ear. He swept her off her feet and into his arms, before pelting indoors, ignoring Hermione's pleas for him to slow down because they were only getting wetter faster. Once inside, he set her down and languidly kissed her, backing her against the wall. "So," he said, "do you still love me?" 

"Even though you got me all wet? Yes." She pressed her lips against him. "I do love you. Though I've yet to have any such reassurance from you." 

"You haven't? Let me remedy that." And he proceeded to do just that.   


**Author's note:** I hope everyone liked this chapter. I would appreciate it if you would let me know what you think by leaving a review. The next chapter should be up at the usual time. Finally, thanks to **Shawn Pickett** (this might not be taken as a compliment, but the reasoning you used for the boys' plan was much like the reasoning Ron used in justifying it in the first place ), **ExcalibursZone** (it probably was short because it was either that or postpone updates for two weeks), **Oh-Dear** (yeah, he's a jealous prat, but I'd prefer to write him that way, than to make him perfect), **ears91**, **EuphoniumGurl0** (Me? Mean to Draco? He's not dead!), **juliet's rose**, **LeslieGlady**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Sunchilde** (good point! Thanks for bringing it up), **Star19** (I think I know what you were referring to), **TheSilverLady**, **acissej**, **Leah6**, **lee74**, **Fire-bound heart**, **Ramy**, **BakaAngel**, **Sheilalein**, **malu** (of course she can appear for someone else. But so long as she's safe, Harry would mind more if it's Draco), **RogueBHS**, **Ash**, **Falling**, **Amynoelle **(hopefully, it'll be updated tomorrow), **Brittany**, **Mistress Desdemona **(since when has he been the type to apologize?), **TheGreatFox2000**, **Zekintha**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin** (thanks for always reviewing ), **ravenclaw's heir**, **skywalkercn** (not too soon, but she'll figure out _a_ solution soon enough), **casey windsor** (thanks, am much better), **craziiblondii**, **Erise**, **Jen**, **Bladefanatic**, **hpfanmelissa**, and **one crimson tie **(Thank you. And I feel as though I owe you a cup of coffee or three for that marathon reading session. Oh, and I had thought I had mentioned it, but Dumbledore's dead) )for their reviews of the last chapter. Thanks so much for taking the time to review it.


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine : Pleasure Line

**Charming**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Twenty Nine : Pleasure Line**   


Harry sneezed again, leading to another wad of tissue that he lobbed in the general direction of the waste basket. He hated being sick. Worse, he hated being sick and having no one to blame but himself. At least when he was stuck in the infirmary back when he was attending Hogwarts, he wasn't to blame for it. It wasn't his fault he got injured while he and his friends were protecting that damn stone from Voldemort in their first year. It wasn't his fault that he hurt himself while trying to get to the Chamber of Secrets during second year either. And it certainly wasn't his fault that some idiot had thought it a brilliant idea to have soul-sucking demons prowl the school grounds during his third year – which quite inevitably led to him winding up injured once again, though that year, Ron had it worst than him. So it had went throughout his entire time at Hogwarts, except for now. 

Harry really couldn't blame anyone for his being sick, not when it had been his own fault that he had been out in the rain for so long. Oh, he supposed he could blame Hermione and that bloody charm of hers for driving him outside, but that would be petty. And Hermione didn't deserve that, not when she had tried to talk to him the night before to reassure him, but he hadn't been in the mood to listen. Not to mention the fact that Hermione was sick herself as well, probably because she had been out in the rain. 

Harry sighed. It had been embarrassing to see his friends looking at him that morning, as he had fallen while trying to lift a box that they were sending to their rooms at Hogwarts. Hermione had rested a hand against his forehead, before declaring that he was burning up. No one had asked him about it because he would have told them that he thought it was Hermione who was hot. Though maybe that was just as well, because he'd have to explain that he meant temperature hot and not hot as she was normally hot. A levitation charm and a portkey later, Harry found himself ensconced in the bedroom he and Hermione was to share at Hogwarts, with Hermione issuing stern orders for him not to move from the bed. Harry had agreed, hoping that none of the students had seen him being levitated by Hermione into their quarters. That would make a lovely piece for the _Daily Prophet _if any of their reporters ever found out. _Bleh. Don't want to think of that right now_, Harry thought. _Head hurts enough as it is._

So Harry had tossed and turned in bed alone, trying to find a comfortable position. It was only a hour later, when the door burst open again and he looked up to see Ron carrying Hermione in. He felt a burst of possessiveness before Ron deposited Hermione in bed, muttering about idiot best friends who didn't know when to quit. Ron told both of them that he and his brothers would take care of the rest of the move and that they were to stay in bed because they were both sick—or else. Ron backed up that vague threat by mentioning that he was already going to owl his mum with the news and that he would hate to have to tell her about them not taking care of themselves. 

Once Ron left, Hermione turned to snuggle against Harry and she was hot. Not that he didn't usually think she was hot, but this time she was literally burning up. There was a small part of him that felt vindicated, because he had thought she was hot earlier when she had checked his temperature. And of course, he had to tell her. 

"You're so hot," he said dully. 

"Be quiet. Something tells me that you don't mean that as a compliment, Harry," was her reply. 

Harry stifled a yawn, before answering her. "Sorry," he said, in a tone that implied the opposite, "but it's the truth. You're hot. Too hot. You're burning up." 

"In case you've not noticed, so are you, Mr. Potter," Hermione said in that tone of voice that would normally make him long to shag her. 

He sighed. "Usually, I'd be . . . well, you know. But today . . . ." 

"Good," Hermione said. "Because I don't feel up to anything like that." She turned away from him, tossing off the blanket. "And this room is too hot. Who cast this Heating Charm again?" 

"You did," said Harry, a trace of smugness in his voice. "You said you wanted it nice and warm in here for me." 

"Bleh. This is all your fault." 

"Don't remind me." He pulled the blanket higher up over him, as though trying to hide. Harry really hated being at fault here for both of them being sick. It was worse than merely being useless. 

"Oh Harry," said Hermione. "I didn't mean it like that." She placed her head on his shoulder, though she didn't join him under the blanket. "I was only teasing. Bad joke though, I see." 

"Well, it is my fault and I'm sorry that I got you sick as well." 

Hermione shrugged that apology off. "It's not your fault. I should've taken a Pepper Up potion the moment I wasn't feeling well. And on the bright side, maybe getting sick now means I won't get sick later when everyone else does. And that's without getting a shot." She shuddered. "Sometimes I think the shot is worse than the flu." 

"Afraid of needles much?" asked Harry. 

"No. I'm afraid of the people who use them but can't find veins." 

"Good point." Harry turned on his side, so he would face Hermione. "Which reminds me. However are we going to thank Ron and the twins for moving us like this." 

"You could start by staying in the room and under the blanket for one," came Ron's voice from the doorway. He shook his head and walked towards the bed, where he proceeded to tuck Hermione back under the covers. "There. Is it so hard to stay still when you're feeling that bad?" 

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "It's too hot in here," she said. 

"Well a rather clever witch I know insisted that a nice, warm room is one of the things a sick person needs . . . and I'm inclined to believe her. And once again, I am left wondering why I had to grow up and be the mature one of us all." Then he smirked. "And I came in to tell you that Mum thinks that her chicken soup will soon have both of you back on your feet. So she'll be here in a bit, once she finishes making it to feed it to you, while babying you both. We all figured it would be worth the show." Ron barely held back his laughter as his friends groaned. "Come on now. It's not that bad. You wouldn't want to be sick for your first day of classes, now would you, Hermione?" 

Hermione held her tongue, which Harry thought very wise of her. They were both too hot to argue with anyone, and the best thing to do was to get as much rest as they possibly could. 

* * *

Two days later, Hermione almost wished that she hadn't recovered so quickly. Another week of bed rest sounded lovely, especially when compared with teaching the little monsters she had to deal with today. Though that made her sound like some awful, old hag. Hermione heaved a sigh. One day of teaching and already she knew why Snape was always so grumpy. The third year class she had taught hadn't been so bad, although they had a bad habit of not paying attention and therefore, making mistakes when they Transfigured their pillows into rabbits. True, it had been frustrating to have had to repeat herself several times over again and that was probably what had led her to assigning that long essay that she did. It had been unfortunate for them that she had taught them before the sixth years, for she would have thought of them as angels in comparison. 

The sixth year class, composed of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, had only wanted to talk about her and Harry. And not necessarily as in them being together. After Hermione had introduced herself to the class, almost a dozen hands had shot up, teetering back and forth as their owners looked desperate to ask a question. When she had called upon one studious looking girl, the student had asked if Harry would ever make an appearance in this class. Hermione had replied that he probably would not, as DADA was more his thing than Transfiguration, and then had asked the class if they had any more questions. 

It had went downhill from there. The questions had kept coming in, even without her answering the previous one, each one wanting to know more about Harry or their relationship. Finally, Hermione had been reduced to almost shouting at her class to stop, deducting points for each personal question asked and threatening detention on the next person to ask such questions. That had shut the girls up at least. 

Unfortunately, that was when the boys decided to start acting up. When Hermione had rather exasperatedly looked around the room and asked if anyone had any questions that were not related to Harry, one boy had raised his hand and asked if she was busy next weekend. That earned him a sharp look, a quick loss of ten points, and detention. 

Only thing was he looked happy about the detention part. And so did all the other wizards who had wound up receiving detentions from her. Before half an hour had past, Hermione was heartily wishing that she could Transfigure her entire class into rabbits or something, because they were driving her insane. 

The day hadn't improved when she had finished teaching and stomped off to the library in order to do a bit of research on that charm. Nope, unfortunately for Hermione, some of the more tenacious members of her class had followed her there and no sooner had she sat down, was she pestered with all sorts of questions once again. Madam Pince had turned a stern eye towards the group surrounding her, but to no avail. Knowing that she was probably only minutes away from being kicked out of the library once again, she had informed them all of her office hours and told them that she would welcome class-related questions at that time. Hermione then got up out of her chair, lifted her books off of the table, and proceeded into the Restricted Section, where she was finally left alone. 

And yeah, she supposed that was a bit like running away, but she figured discretion was the better part of valor in this case. And it did allow her to go through some of the books she had located. Besides, the last thing she wanted was for any of her students to know about the charm that was on her. She didn't want to think of what would happen then. It was bad enough that half her class seemed to be part of the unofficial Harry Potter fan club; it seemed as the other half of her class had decided to form one for her. That was something she could have lived without, especially since the last thing she wanted was for anyone else to need her. 

After spending several hours pouring over books, Hermione had looked at the clock to see that not only had she missed dinner, she had detention to get to in five minutes. She had flown out of the library, making her way as quickly as possible to the classroom where everyone was supposed to meet her. Hermione had arrived to find that all the wizards were there before, eagerly waiting their detention. That was when Hermione decided that she wouldn't be the one overseeing them, though she knew she was supposed to. However, they looked too damned happy about detention and any professor who knew anything knew that detention was not supposed to make students happy. So Hermione had set them on working on their homework and stepped out to find Filch. It had taken longer than she wanted, with Hermione wishing that she knew where the Marauder's Map had wound up. But once he was located, she had dumped all of the students on him, noting that they looked too happy about having detention with her. Filch complained mightily about the whole thing, saying how professors were supposed to arrange beforehand for him to take care of detention, but in the end, he had taken them over. Hermione was forever grateful for that. Though she didn't know what she would do tomorrow night, for she was certain that she would be assigning detention again, at least until she figured out how to control her classes better. 

So it was Hermione was practically dragging herself when she entered her quarters late that evening. And she was starving, as she hadn't eaten since lunch. She sighed. She wanted to eat, but was too tired to Fortunately, Harry was waiting for her, with a large amount of food set out on the table. 

"Bad day?" he asked when he saw her. 

"Don't ask." 

"Have you eaten yet? Because I asked Dobby to bring us a few things, and he had mentioned that you weren't at dinner," said Harry. 

"No, I haven't." Hermione summoned the strength to cross the room and sit down next to Harry. "And I'm famished. Dealing with all those idiots has really done a number on me." 

Harry quirked an eyebrow at her. "Idiots?" 

"Yes," Hermione said. "Idiots." She reached out for a sandwich and took a large bite out of it. "I'm rather sick of teenage hormones right now," she told him. 

Harry pretended to be hurt. "So if I told you I love you, you would . . . ." 

"Oh, I would say I love you back, but you're not getting any tonight. I'm too tired." Hermione ignored his pout, cute though it was. "And I have no idea what I'm going to do for detention. The boys look like they'd enjoy having detention with me. And that would never do." 

"No, it wouldn't," agreed Harry. "If you'd like, I could take over their detention for you." A wicked grin covered his face. "I'm fairly certain I can convince them to act better in your class." 

"Um . . . thanks but no thanks. I think only staff members can oversee detentions. Besides, once it got out that you were handling my detentions for me, all the witches in my class would be scrambling over themselves to get one. And that wouldn't be a pretty sight." 

Harry shuddered . "No, it wouldn't be. But I'd like to take this moment to point out the fact that I was right." 

"Bleh. I wish you weren't." 

"Love you too, Hermione. But I did tell you that the wizards would be fawning over you." 

"And where were they when I was at Hogwarts?" 

"Too intimidated by you," he said. 

"And why aren't they intimidated now? Shouldn't they be more intimidated now that I'm a professor?" 

"Probably because you're dating me." Hermione shot him a sharp glance. "No, no, it does make sense if you think about it. You were rather inapproachable before. You kind of scared off most wizards who would have asked you. But you seem more approachable now that you've had a boyfriend for several months." 

"I've had relationships before," Hermione pointed out. 

"Yes, but the way they ended . . . well, let's not go there. But my point is they have to know that if a bloke like me has a chance with you, then there's hope for them as well." 

"That makes no sense at all. Logically, I would think that my dating you means that I'm taken—" 

"Damn straight that you're taken." Harry dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. 

"Thought so. Besides, how could they compete with the Boy Who Lived?" she asked rhetorically. 

Harry tried to answer that question anyway. "Maybe they figure I'm not much substance." Harry shrugged. "Or that you'll get tired of the constant publicity." 

Hermione snorted. "As if that could ever stop me from loving you." 

Harry smiled. "Glad to hear that. Now about taking over these detentions . . . ." 

"Harry, I told you that—" 

"Yes, I know. I was just going to suggest maybe you can work something out with Lupin? Or some other professor?" 

Hermione nodded. "Yes, that is a good idea. Thanks, Harry." 

"Don't mention it," he said. "And about the charm—did you find anything?" 

Hermione groaned. "Not a damn thing. And I spent hours searching through books." 

Harry sighed. "I guess we'll have to build a counter from scratch, if worse comes to worst." 

"We?" 

"Yes, we. We're in this together," said Harry. "I know I might not be much help, but I'm going to do everything I can do." 

"Thank you," Hermione said simply. "I really needed to hear that." 

"Any time, love. Any time."   
  


**Author's note:** And that is it for this week's installment. The next chapter should be up at the usual time. I'd love to hear what you thought of this one and so would very much like reviews Finally, thanks to **danielerin** (I think it goes in rounds actually), **Shawn Pickett** (I'm glad someone realizes that), **ExcalibursZone** (having fun with haiku? That was cute), **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Star19 **(thanks though I couldn't really switch plots or speeds this far through, I think), **Ash**, **jennymay** (not Ginny as she's still in school), **lee74**, **juliet's rose**, **TheGreatFox2000**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **Leah6**, **lanna1186**, **tigrrgirl13** (I think there's an option when you log in?), **RogueBHS** (well, where else can he see her everyday if not at work?), **Amynoelle**, **Legolas-is-to-hot-4-u, Zekintha** (it's always been slow -- before people were complaining how long I took to put H/Hr together. The fic is meant to develop, not to race to its finish ), **Jen**, **Korine** (not likely -- but I can send you _More_ if you like), **keita**, **EuphoniumGurl0** (well, that was Harry's opinion and even if true, we can chalk it up to his dad being imprisoned ), **sally**, **Waterlili**, **myman-harry526**, **Oh-Dear** ( am glad someone likes this imperfect Harry -- as it's annoying when he can do no wrong), **malu** (well, Hermione wasn't too happy with drunk!Draco anyway,considering how long she spent trying to find his flat to no avail), **ThePerfectionist**, **wyndnfyr** (yes, I freely admit he's OOC, especially after OotP, though that wasn't out when I started this fic. And thanks for all the reviews), **Sadistic Shadow **(yes, there are rather too many chapters ), **lilmatchgirl007**, **shaznay17**, **acissej**, **Lanzit Ventre**, **Genki no Yuuki**, **casey windsor**, **Ramy** (I know, but if you write that way, you have to worry about it going OOC -- because it doesn't really happen in real life, you know), **Jazzylady**, **Jezzi**, **bishtawiman** (if you want something really bittersweet, you'd have to read another fic of mine), **NicoleAiken-B**, **ray1**, **Angel66**, **mrs. radcliffe** (thanks -- am glad you like the plot), **iluvdanrad**, **HarryNDracosDarlin**, **TheWraith1** (I actually meant, why not a boy? But either way, I think it's better for him to be self sufficient first), **heavenscloud524**, **HHromancefreak**, and **xxbabysparklesxx **for their reviews of the last chapter. I really can't say how much I appreciate them.


	30. Chapter Thirty : Serious Chance

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Thirty : Serious Chance**

The next day, Hermione lingered outside Professor Lupin's office, wondering how best to approach her fellow professor. Suddenly, she was startled by the sound of the door opening. Lupin was standing by the door, looking straight at her. "Is there something you want to discuss, Hermione?" he asked. Hermione nodded. "Then perhaps it would be best if you come in. Nothing will get done with you just worrying, Hermione." 

Hermione winced. She should have remembered that werewolves were known for their keen senses, and so that it would be difficult to hide from him. "Yes, professor," she said as she stepped inside his office. 

Remus chuckled as he closed the door. "Just Remus is fine, Hermione," he said. "You're not a student any more. We professors tend to refer to each other by our given names – not unless, of course, one happens to extremely dislike another, of course." He smiled ruefully. "We are remarkably like our students when it comes to that." 

"Yes, grudges can be hard to get over," agreed Hermione, thinking of how Harry and Ron still loathed Malfoy. It wasn't as though Malfoy couldn't be a prat – he quite often was a large one – but he wasn't as bad as her friends made him out to be. "And it's strange, very strange, that suddenly I am supposed to refer to all my professors by their first names. For some reason, it still seems a bit rude." She shrugged her shoulders. 

Remus burst out laughing at those words. "To be completely honest," he said, trying to catch his breath from laughing, "it took me the better part of the year to get used to that when I first started to teach here. In fact, I had only just got used to it when . . . well, you know. Ironically enough, the only professor that it was easy for me to call by name was Snape, and I imagine that was because I always had. But I ought to remember my manners." Remus pulled out a chair for Hermione, which she gracefully took. "Would you like anything to drink? A cup of tea? And are you hungry?" 

"No thank you," she replied. "I am fine." 

"Except for whatever is on your mind, I would think." Professor Lupin took the seat across from her and leaned towards her. "Go on, Hermione. It's easier if you just say it, rather than hold it back. I rather suspect I know why you're here." 

Hermione sighed. _Of course, it's easy for him to say that – he's not the one to admit that he needs a bit of help with his classes. But I suppose since he has said that, there is no real point in beating around the bush. _"I have a small favor to ask you," she said. He nodded encouragingly for her to go on. "Well, it's not really a small favor if I think about it . . . but I wouldn't ask for it, if I didn't think I needed the help. And I know – I ought to stop babbling." 

"I wouldn't have put it that way," said her companion with a smile. "But yes, I was thinking along those lines." 

"Right." Hermione nodded. She gathered her courage and blurted out, "Do you think that you might take on a few of my detentions for me? That is to say, any detentions that I assign to the boys in my classes. Because I must confess, I assigned quite a bit of them lately – and they all seemed to be looking forward to it, and that's not really the point of what's supposed to be a punishment." 

Remus raised his eyebrows at her before speaking. "Why not ask Filch to help you out?" he asked. "He's usually more than happy to be the one to give students their detentions." 

"I have been asking him," Hermione explained. "He seemed most put out about the whole matter. He always agrees, but he complains the whole time." 

"I think that it is in Filch's nature to complain about everything," said Remus. "I shouldn't speak so, as he has had a hard lot to deal with. But yes, I would be happy to help you out there. And though there are times when I cannot help, I am sure that you can ask Hagrid, if you don't want to approach Filch." He winked at her. "Considering what I've heard about the devotion you've managed to inspire in some of your students, it's probably best that I step in and help before they have to face your boyfriend's wrath." 

Hermione groaned and covered her face. "Do all the professors know?" she asked. 

"Of course. No man is an island, and we all keep tabs on what is going on in each other's lives." Remus grinned. "Especially when it's as amusing as this. Unfortunately –or fortunately from your perspective – none of us have Invisibility Cloaks, so we have to rely upon ghosts to hear what happened in your class." 

Hermione sighed. "Why me?" she asked. 

"You must admit that you're much younger than everyone else here and so you seem more accessible. And as I'm sure Harry would be happy to attest to, you're very pretty and so it's natural that they gravitate towards you." 

"What I don't understand is why this happened after I started dating," Hermione said. "I mean, all of my students were here when I was here – it was just last year – and so why didn't anything happen then? Not that I wanted anything to happen then . . . but this seemed really to come out of nowhere." 

Remus considered those words, rubbing his chin with one hand. "I think it's because you were always accompanied by your friends – or so it seemed. Harry and Ron make for a quite a frightening duo when it comes to scaring potential suitors away. Or rather, I think they would," he said hastily, as he saw the question arise in Hermione's eyes. "I never actually heard of them doing anything to anyone who wanted to date you, though I know that Ron wanted to pummel Viktor Krum into the ground at times." 

Hermione snorted. "That's Ron's answer to everything. If you don't like a person or what they're doing, introduce them to your fists. Because goodness knows that he had no luck with _spells_." 

"Simple, but quite satisfying, I imagine," said Remus, with almost an admiring tone to his voice. "No, I would not do that . . . but it reminds me of a friend who would." He looked solemn, and Hermione guessed that he was remembering Sirius. "As I was saying, I don't think either Harry or Ron did anything in particular to scare away men from you. I think they were scared away just by thinking of what might happen to them. And you had a bit of reputation, that you'd hex anyone who would interrupt your studies to ask you out." 

"I would not!" Hermione said hotly. Then she stopped to think. "Okay, maybe I threatened that once, but that was because Terry Boot was being incredibly annoying. As a Ravenclaw, he should have known better than to bother me before finals." She huffed and crossed her arms. "I still think it was a ploy to get me to stop studying so that one of them might get better marks than me that year. Stupid plan, that. Would have been better just to study more." 

Remus chuckled once again. "And you sometimes remind me of someone else. It's funny how life works out some time." 

"Isn't it?" said Hermione. Li_ke that charm. No matter what McGonagall says, it did bring us together . . . and it brought me to Harry that other day when he needed me. _She sighed. _But he wouldn't have been like that if that damn charm hadn't sent me to Malfoy the day before! I hope I can find a counterspell soon._

"Quite frankly, Hermione," said Remus, interrupting her chain of thoughts, "I thought your favor would be quite different from the one you asked." 

"You did?" Hermione blinked in surprised. "What did you expect?" she asked. "Given that you already knew of the troubles I had been having with the wizards in my classes." 

"Yes, I knew about that, like everyone else. But I thought you were handling them fine and that Filch would be kept happy dealing with detentions for the next several months." He leaned forward in his chair, tilting his entire body towards Hermione. "I hope you don't get upset about this, but Minerva mentioned to me, the other day, about the spell you're under." 

"Oh. I see." Hermione waited for the inevitable lecture. 

"It was a bloody stupid thing for you to do," said Remus. "Using a charm – and a very advanced one as well – that you had modified without going to someone else, to ask what they thought of your modifications." 

"Who could I have gone to?" asked Hermione. "I was a student when I first made that charm. Students aren't allowed to do such things, so I kept it a secret because I didn't want to get expelled." 

"That's the downside of forbidding spells to students," Remus remarked. "On one hand, you don't want any of them attempting such difficult spells, but on the other hand, if one of them does try to fashion a spell or charm like that, you would want them to come to you to make sure they did it right." He shook his head. "Something tells me, Hermione, that if you had went to Dumbledore with the charm, he would have told you what he thought of your modifications before confiscating it. And I doubt he would have expelled you. Merlin knows that we did far worse things during our time as students, and we never had to face expulsion." 

Hermione grimaced. "It's not that I didn't respect Professor Dumbledore and still do, now that he's gone," she said, "but he was far too fond of giving hints in riddles." 

"I quite agree, Hermione. I quite agree. It is one thing to phrase something differently to make a person think. It's a completely different matter entirely to be so vague about something important, such that the person who you are trying to warn is not warned at all." 

"I know," said Hermione. "And I know that sometimes a direct warning – like not to go into the woods – can encourage a person to do exactly that." 

"That's human nature for you. And I shan't say anything else on how stupid it was for you to use that charm. You are probably already beating yourself up for that. What I was going to say is that I took the time to mention it to Severus. I hope you don't think that was too forward of me. I just thought it might be a good idea to see if he had any ideas, for perhaps a potion would be the appropriate cure instead of a charm." 

"Oh." Hermione slumped down in her seat. She didn't want to think what Snape had to say when he heard about that. He probably made a few cutting remarks about how her use of the charm proved that she was not suited to be a professor here at Hogwarts and how she would only be a bad example for the students, especially as she was currently dating Potter. _And it might have taken him more than just a few remarks to say all of that. And he would probably have more to add than just that_, she thought to herself. 

"You need not react like that. Severus has spent most of his life trying to atone for the bad choices he made when he was younger," said Remus. "That is more than I can say for other people." 

"I know, I know," said Hermione. "I'm just surprised he didn't suggest I be taken off the staff for such stupidity though." 

"Actually, he did mutter something along those lines under his breath." Hermione groaned at those words. "But I took the liberty of telling him because he has one of the finest minds when it comes not only to the making of potions, but the creation of counters as well." Remus grinned wryly. "Maybe there is something to what he says about studying the Dark Arts in order to learn how to defeat them. But teaching them, I do believe is a dangerous path that we should not take. As McGonagall – and Dumbledore before her – agree with that philosophy, I believe I am quite safe in my job." 

"The fact that you're one of the few D.A.D.A. teachers we had that actually knew anything also helps, I would think," said Hermione. 

"Thank you." 

"Don't mention it. It's not much of a compliment, when you consider that I'm comparing you to the likes of Lockhart." 

"Better to be compared to a stupid coward like Lockhart than righteous idiot like Umbridge," Remus reflected out loud. "But enough. I keep getting off track. And you haven't been helping me when it comes to staying on point, young lady." He pretended to glare at Hermione. 

"Sorry," she said with a smile. 

"I'm sure. Anyway, I spoke with Severus, and he suggested a solution." 

"He did?" Hermione's jaw dropped. "What is it? And is it permanent?" 

"Well, I'm not sure how permanent it would be, but I think it would be more effective than you simply confining yourself to Hogwarts. There are other repercussions to think of, however." 

"So what is it?" Hermione asked again. "What is this brilliant idea that Professor Snape had?" 

"I don't think you'll call it brilliant after you hear it." He took a deep breathe before continuing. "He suggested that no one would be able to need you more than your own child." 

If it weren't for the fact that Hermione's jaw had already unhinged from the thought of Snape helping her, it would have hit the floor now. _ That . . . it . . . he can't possibly be saying what I think he is saying_, she thought. _It's just . . . it's incredibly unbelievable, it is!_

"It does make sense if you think about it," Remus continued. "I believe the charm is strongest when the person who needs you is close to you and it is a life and death situation, right? It would be hard for a person to be closer to you than your own child. And as for the second – when you're actually pregnant, you couldn't Apparate wherever you want, as that could harm the child. And it ought to still work even after the child is born, for he would still need you then as well." 

Hermione gulped. "It does sound logical when you put it like that." 

"But you don't want to take that option, do you?" Remus said wisely. 

"I . . . it's rather sudden, you know. I always expected to have a family – but not this soon." She sighed. "I don't know. I really don't know. I suppose it goes to show how desperate I am, the fact that I haven't ruled it out automatically. But it's . . . it's too soon, that's what it is. I'm not ready for something like that." 

"I don't think anyone is ever completely ready for something like that, Hermione," said Remus. 

Hermione looked sharply at the other professor. "Do you think that I ought to give it a try?" 

"It doesn't matter what I think, Hermione," said Remus. "It matters what you think. And what Harry thinks. I do hope that whatever you do, you bring this up to him." 

"I know. I know I should. And I will talk to him, have no fear of that. Thank you for all your help, Remus." With that, Hermione rose from her seat and headed out the door, lost in her own thoughts. _I'm just afraid that Harry'll think it's the perfect solution. He's always wanted a family anyway, and here would be his chance to start one sooner than expected. _She sighed. _And if he thinks like that, how can I refuse him? Especially as it would hurt him so much and I love him so much. Especially as it's all my fault that I'm in this mess in the first place and I ought to do everything I can to get out of it. But oh! I'm not ready! Not for something like this. But if he is, how can I refuse him? I don't think I could refuse him. And that scares me even more._   
  


**Author's note:** And that is all for this week. The next chapter shall be up at the usual time -- until then, I would really love to hear what you thought of this chapter in a review. Also, I am ever so grateful to **Tanaly**, **danielerin** (thank you -- for both the H/Hr and the Ron comment ), **Connie**, **ExcalibursZone** (Harry ought to be hiding too, if he knows what's good for him), **The Wraith1**, **Angelic Demon16**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Eric MacRorie** (I was wondering when someone would suggest that, as it is rather logical, is it not? Only problem is if they're too young to get married, this probably would not work for Hermione), **TheGreatFox2000**, **star19**, **Fire-bound heart**, **Amynoelle**, **MrSpy**, **xxbabysparklesxx**, **Korine** (I'm guessing because you want to take his mind off of Hermione?), **mrs.radcliffe** (you and a good portion of the fandom, I'd imagine), **lee74**, **Zekintha** (big things can't happen in every chapter -- otherwise, it kind of turns into a melodrama Besides, I like writing fluff), **EuphoniumGurl0**, **Leah6**, **myman-harry526**, **Alysha **(wow -- am always amazed at people having the patience to read this fic all the way through in one sitting. Thanks!), **Falling** (or maybe it's because my plots always move slowly ), **ray1** (they're already crazy -- about each other flees from bad pun patrol), **Jezzi**, **sunne1**, **Legolas-is-to-hot-4-u**, **LeslieGlady**, **Orlando's Gurl**, **Wohsi** (they have had action, together, I've just not written about it, though I do like to know the backstory and what's going on that's not actually in the fic), **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **Cynthia21** (yes, as someone once noted, my Dracos are much abused -- it's amazing I can get any to be in my fics ), **liongirrl4eva**, **HHromancefreak**, **hpfanmelissa**, **Oh-Dear** (lol My friends and I once noted that Hermione would always be hexing us because we'd be getting too touchy feely with Harry ), **LuluIsALobster**, **malu** (no, there isn't any real way to be cheery when you have the flu), **ace** (because the transportation spell only activates when someone else needs her more -- since she never got transported elsewhere, the charm wouldn't have taken her back to him),** hopelessromantic2006**,** surgedragon99**, **RogueBHS**, **LiLy NiCoLe pOtTeR**, **heavenscloud524**, **Ramy**, **angelfan2000** (thank you blushes), **softballsweeti11**, **Jen**, **male-chan **and **juliet's rose** (but that would be telling )for taking the time to review the last chapter. Thanks! 


	31. Chapter Thirty One : Boys & Girls

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Thirty One: Boys & Girls**

As the weekend approached, Hermione found that she had yet to tell Harry about the potential solution to the charm, though she didn't think it was much of one. One big problem about the solution that Remus told her about was with how she could go about telling Harry about it. Of course, her biggest worry was what his reaction would be once she told him. But she had to tell him soon and she hated putting it off. However, she just couldn't think of how to start that conversation. And putting it off the way she had been just made it harder and harder with each day to tell Harry about it. Hermione began to fear that he would be angry at her, when she finally told him, for taking so long. She was scared that maybe he would yell and shout that she wasn't really interested in ending the charm or worse – she really wasn't interested in him and their relationship. 

Which was completely ridiculous. Both the part of him getting angry at her for putting it off and him accusing her of wanting out of their relationship. Logic told Hermione that Harry was bright enough to figure out that what had taken her so long to tell him was the fact that it was a hard subject to broach. It wasn't every day that a witch would tell her wizard that pregnancy could help relieve a charm that was on her. And Harry wouldn't accuse her of wanting out, not when she had told him so many times that she loved him, not when she had apologized so many times about the whole mess. He knew her better than that. He loved her better than that. 

Logic, however, didn't do much to ease Hermione's worries. Especially after she considered that logic really didn't mix well with emotions – people often felt differently than what logic would dictate. And of course, she had to think that thought in the middle of the night, when she should have been asleep. That had led to her tossing and turning the whole night, and she looked awful when Harry woke up the next morning. When he had asked her what was wrong, she had simply smiled and said that she was being a silly girl. And Hermione did hope she was just being silly. 

The only good thing about Lupin's revelation was the fact that between her worrying about Harry's reaction and losing sleep over the matter, she had become more than a tad bit cranky while teaching class. Though this had at first led to a whole new slew of detentions, students soon learned to behave better in her class or else. Of course, this improvement would probably be short-lived – for the duration of her bad temper only was likely – but Hermione could hope. 

The days passed quicker than Hermione thought they were, and before she knew it, it was the right before Harry's next Quidditch match, and she still hadn't told him. The fact that he had a Quidditch match became an excuse in and of itself – she wouldn't want to tell him right now and have him get distracted while playing. That could be dangerous. Hermione sighed. She was just putting it off again, though she actually had a good reason this time around. She silently swore that she would tell Harry about what Remus had told her, once this match of his was over. 

Putting the final touches on her hair and face, Hermione threw on her robes and trotted downstairs. Harry had already left for players were required to report in quite early. Unfortunately, she would be attending this game by herself. Ron had been in Australia the entire week, helping George in exploring the possibilities of expanding the twins' shop over there, and evidently they were wrapped up in negotiations still. She smiled to herself. Ron had been very eloquent on what he thought about missing the game, and she couldn't imagine him as being very gracious to be around today. 

Whistling to herself, Hermione walked along the path to get outside of Hogwarts and its wards. Harry had suggested to her that maybe it would be better for her to stay home. She had disagreed vehemently with that suggestion; she had never missed a match of his before and she wasn't about to start now just because of one stupid little charm. Hermione knew that she was taking a risk and that Harry was worried about it but the truth was that she was starting to develop a small bit of cabin fever, always staying at Hogwarts like she had. Hence there was nothing that could keep her from the match, especially after she learned that Ron was not going to be there. Harry needed one of his best friends to root for him at the very least. 

Once outside of Hogwarts, Hermione withdrew her wand from her sleeve and promptly Apparated to the front gate. She was promptly waved on in, without even having to take out her ticket, which led her to chuckle to herself. Someone must have complained about all the troubles she had in getting in last time. She had forgotten to do so, with all the work she had at the time, but she was glad to see that wasn't the case for everyone. It was much easier this way. Still, Hermione had to take out her ticket to double check what section she was sitting in. When she got there, however, she found herself confused. The seat she had was quite good, but it was in a smaller section that was set off and there were currently only two other occupants. She would have thought there would be more people there already, especially as seeing the match was set to start in less than thirty minutes. 

The two people who were sitting there were both women and both brunettes. Before Hermione could say anything, one of them turned her head and say her. Glancing down at her watch and nudging her companion, she said to Hermione, "Seeing how we still have a bit of time before the match starts, I'm guessing that you're Hermione Granger." 

"I am," said Hermione, a bit taken aback. That had got to be one of the strangest introductions she had ever heard. She nodded at them both. "And a good evening to you." 

"Good evening," chirped the other brunette, "and I do apologize for Elizabeth here. She likes to think herself quite smart – though she pales in comparison to you, I'm sure – and so she can't simply say why she arrived at the conclusion that you're Hermione Granger." 

"I can too," replied Elizabeth. Her friend merely rolled her eyes. 

"You still haven't," she pointed out. "But where are my manners?" She smiled at Hermione. "I'm Emily. Emily Gardner. And this is Elizabeth Jenkins. It is a pleasure to meet you." 

"Likewise," replied Hermione automatically. 

"Yes, yes, now come on. Sit here." Elizabeth patted the seat next to her. "I'm not going to bite. I've just been dreadfully curious about you since Anthony told me that you and Harry were dating." Hermione sighed. She wasn't sure that she wanted to sit next to the witch, but it would be rude not to, so she walked over and sat down. 

"Slow down, Lizzy," said Emily, laughing. "You've already confused the poor girl enough as it is. You should start with—" 

"Yes, I know. I know," said Elizabeth. "And I knew you were Hermione Granger because you're here early. None of the others will be. Trust me on that one. They'll probably get here after the match has started, as they're too busy gossiping with their friends." 

"Others?" Hermione repeated dumbly. 

"Harry didn't tell you?" Emily quirked an eyebrow, then sighed. "Evidently, Wilson and Everett were awfully distracted during the last match. You must have seen how awful they were at keeping the Bludgers away from everyone else. So the coach came up with this brilliant idea of having all the players' wives and girlfriends sit together, so he can see if anyone is distracted by having their significant other here." 

Elizabeth snorted. "I doubt that was either of their problems. They were too busy being in awe of Harry Potter to notice their girlfriends." 

Emily smiled at her friend. "Considering that Everett's broke up with him inside a week after that match, I have to agree with that conclusion. But for this match, at least, we'll have to sit together. Which in a way is good, because I have been wanting to get to know you, Hermione, better." 

"But which in a way is bad, since some of the players – I'm not naming any names here – are busy sowing their wild oats and the like. So having to sit by them is not my idea of a good time. Especially since they'll be asking about the wedding again." 

"Which reminds me," said Emily, "when are you and Harry getting married?" 

Hermione blinked. She couldn't believe she had heard that question. "Married?" she said. "I . . . well, that is to say . . . ." 

"Oh Emily! Don't be ridiculous! She's Muggle-born. Muggles tend not to get married as early as us," said Elizabeth. "Didn't you take Muggle studies at Hogwarts? That's why Anthony took so long to propose. He's Muggle-born as well, and when you grow up with a norm where people don't marry right out of school . . . it's hard to overcome that sort of thing." 

Emily frowned. "If you say so," she said. "And I never bothered with that particular class. It didn't seem very practical." 

That remark caused Hermione to frown. She hated how it was necessary for Muggle-borns to learn all about the Wizarding world, but many wizards never bothered to learn about Muggles and how they lived. And she hated how that those who did tended to do so with an air of superiority. Both Arthur Weasley and Professor Dumbledore were rare exceptions to that rule. Mr. Weasley seemed genuinely fascinated with Muggles and had spoken to her parents before as equals, which was something she greatly appreciated. And as for Professor Dumbledore – though at times, Hermione thought that he was too passive, he had never seemed to look down upon Muggles. Which was quite different from McGonagall, who seemed to think that more Muggles than not were like the Dursleys. But trying to bring up the fact a wizard or witch looked down upon Muggles was an exercise in futility. Bring up that subject, and you were likely to get a lecture on why it was all right to think that way. It was no wonder that a significant number of Muggle-borns left the Wizarding world after they finished their schooling. 

"But if you don't have a date set," Emily was saying, "expect the others to harp on that." 

"Why?" asked Hermione. 

"Because you're only dating the most eligible bachelor in the entire Wizarding world," replied Elizabeth. "And trust me – the other girls aren't really in for the long haul. Caroline, for one, has been seen flirting shamelessly with that Keeper Puddlemere United has." 

"I don't think it has worked," Emily noted, "as he's entirely too Quidditch mad to notice anyone, evidently." 

"True. Not that her lack of success has stopped her from trying." Elizabeth sighed. "I hope Wilson comes to his senses soon. He deserves better than that." 

"Yes," said Emily, "but back to the marriage topic. Do you have a ring? Or even a date that you're expecting a proposal? Or anything that would keep them away from Harry?" 

Hermione shook her head. It was odd, to hear another witch, who wasn't all that much older than herself, talking about marriage so young. Hermione knew that wizards tended to get married at a younger age than Muggles. For one, though magic was known to lengthen one's life, there wasn't much magic that could be used to extend one's fertility. For another, witches often planned to have their children first and then a career – though that didn't work for everyone and many witches who had opted for that route had wound up remaining at home, like Molly Weasley. Hermione winced. Thinking about marriage and children reminded her of what she hadn't spoken to Harry about. 

"Oh don't look like that!" Emily exclaimed. "Surely marriage to Harry Potter isn't that horrid of an idea." 

"It's not. Not at all," replied Hermione. "I don't think that either one of us is ready for that step yet. It's too soon." 

"But you've known each other for more than seven years," Emily pointed out. "Why, I've only known Anthony for three." 

"But you were probably together for most of those three," Hermione said. 

"Yes. But you've been with Harry since your fourth year, right?" 

Hermione grimaced. She couldn't believe that there were still some people who took those articles at face value. "No," she said shortly. "Which is why I felt free to go to the Yule Ball with Viktor." 

"Oh! I wasn't trying to imply anything there. I thought perhaps you just went with Krum as a sort of a goodwill gesture towards the other schools. You can't believe everything you read – particularly when Rita Skeeter is the writer." 

"And on that note, it might be prudent for us to shut up," Elizabeth said quickly, "for it looks like the others are cutting. Not unless you want to start a bit of gossip, that is." She pointed over at a group of girls making their way to where the three of them were sitting. 

"Good idea," agreed Emily. She added to Hermione, "You'd best prepare yourself." 

Hermione thought that was rather overdoing it. She could understand why her companions wouldn't be too enamored of witches who they thought were dating the other Quidditch players simply for fame and fortune, but they could be wrong. Hermione didn't believe in making judgments based on what a person looked like. 

Then the group of witches reached their seats, and the blonde one in front took one look at Hermione before heading straight forward. "Hello!" she said. "I'm Caroline." Then in a lower voice – though still loud enough for everyone around them to hear – she said, "Tell me. Is it true you once visited Harry Potter in the middle of the day to shag him?" 

Hermione stifled a groan. This was not an auspicious start. If this was anything to go by, this match couldn't be over soon enough.   
  


**Author's note: **The next chapter should be up either next Friday or next Saturday -- I'm not sure which. In any case, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. And I do hope you'll find some time to let me know what you think by leaving a review. I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **Tanaly** (I'm currently concentrating on finishing Charming, rather than Seasons), **danielerin** (yes, me as well -- I just hope he doesn't die too), **Ann** (cough That's next chapter), **Shawn Pickett** (well, I didn't think it would be in character for Snape to say that he's afraid of teaching Potterlets in years to come ), **Bladefanactic**, **CookiMonstr08**, **lanna1186**, **juliet's rose**, **TheGreatFox2000**, **Jen**(you're thinking way too far ahead ), **Oh-Dear** (yes, the Sorting Hat would hate us for not listening to it, and Hermione might take a page out of Umbridge's book and have us writing that Harry is hers ), **mantis macabre** (thanks ), **ExalibursZone** (yes, she has been wrong about stuff like that before, hasn't she?), **Fire-bound heart**, **hpfanmelissa**, **lee74**, **LiLy NiCoLe pOtTeR **(I believe the only thin we're told about that is that he was attacked when he was a child), **Star19**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **liongirrl4eva**, **Gamali Halliwell**, **Wytil** (especially because of who that might make her think of), **Legolas-is-to-hot-4-u**, **Sadistic Shadow** (thanks, though I wish I had a screenshot oh well), **Leah6**, **Zekintha** (do you really think that Harry would try to guilt trip into anything as serious as this?), **wyndnfyr** (It _is_ logical for Snape to think of it, not in terms of families per se, but the simple fact that an unborn child needs its mother because it cannot live without her), **MaverickUW **, **Jabba1**, **myman-harry526**, **xxbabysparklesxx**, **B-Rocs**, **heavenscloud524**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **RogueBHS** (that's assuming they do go that route), **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **GaimanFan**, **Orlando's Gurl**, **malu** (it's hardly guaranteed -- besides, am feeling wicked enough to suggest that maybe Snape doesn't think that Harry would agree and so Hermione would have to look elsewhere, if you know what I mean ), **Ramy**, **Brian **(yes, it has been awhile :( But it's great to see you again, even if it's just here ), **jaredphau **(I tend to go with the idea that the slug incident conditioned him not to), **LIONESS-rampant**, **Jezzi** (yes, they do tend to be cute, don't they?), **hpluver456**, **anti-umbridge officer**, and **Miyoko5800**. Thanks so much. It really does mean a lot to me.   



	32. Chapter Thirty Two : Connected

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Thirty Two : Connected**

Ultimately, it didn't take that long for Harry to end the match. Only a little over an hour, and Hermione had sat at longer Quidditch matches. But this one had felt like it lasted forever, and the sympathetic glances from Emily and Elizabeth did not help. Hermione rather felt that they could have at least tried to intercede when it came to Caroline's questions, but they didn't. When Harry finally did catch the snitch, Hermione couldn't get out of there fast enough. 

Thankfully, Hermione didn't have to say a thing to him when they were invited by his teammates to join them in celebrating the win. Harry simply said that they had other plans, and before anyone could protest, Apparated himself and Hermione away. And though Hermione thought that was because he didn't want her to stay away from Hogwarts any longer than necessary, it did turn out that he had other plans. 

Very _nice _other plans. Though nice was certainly the understatement of the year. And they certainly had enjoyed those other plans of his. Though they were rather transparent – if it weren't for Hermione's predicament, she probably would have seen right through them and had known what he was talking about right away. 

But unfortunately, she did have that problem to deal with, and while she more than enjoyed what they did that night, when she awoke the next morning, she felt horridly guilty. For she still hadn't told Harry yet – despite her promises to herself that she would do so. 

Sighing, she rose from the bed, taking great care not to disturb Harry. It was far too early for her to be up, much less him, considering that he had played the match the night before. Turning to look at Harry, she pondered if he was sleeping deep enough for her to take a shower or if that would wake him. _And if that does wake him, would he . . . ? _Hermione shook her head furiously, trying to rid herself of such thoughts. No, Hermione. _He might . . . but I have to tell him first. Because he deserves to know. Because I need to tell him. And more than that – the longer I put it off, the harder it will get and the more reason he'll have to be upset with me in the end. So it's better to just get it over with. _She sighed as she gazed at Harry, reaching out to caress his cheek, which he leant into in his sleep. _And he does seem to be deeply asleep. As should be considering the work out he got last night. Both during and after the game. Which is good, because I really need that shower._

With that thought, Hermione quickly and quietly gathered her things to take with her into the bathroom. After showering and getting dressed, she headed towards the kitchen. Though Professors were encouraged to eat in the Great Hall, every Professor's suite of rooms came with a fully-stocked kitchen attached. _Which is probably because it would be beneath our dignity to sneak down to the kitchens late at night to steal a bite to eat. Though all the stuff in it is probably supplied from the main kitchen. Not that the boys cared when they saw everything. _Hermione smiled fondly, remembering Harry and Ron's first reaction to the kitchen and everything it came with. _Merlin! I'm surprised we ever got Ron out of here after that . . . for that matter, I suppose I'm surprised that either of them tore themselves away before they had finished inspecting it completely. Though I told them not to bother, as probably the contents of the kitchen would change as we used it and the House Elfs learned what to expect of us. As they did._

Opening a cabinet in her kitchen, Hermione got out her coffee press and set it on the counter. Thankfully, there were a couple things she could make and one of those two things was coffee. Hermione didn't know how she would survive without her morning cup. _Probably if I was living in London – or anywhere else but here – I'd wind up going to one of those expensive coffee places every single morning. _She shuddered. _And what a drain on my finances that would be! Not to mention the fact that the coffee there . . . well, the coffee beans are always good but sometimes the coffee doesn't turn out that great. And my cup always winds up being too full for me to add any milk or sugar when it's bad. It's as though they want me to revel in the awfulness that is their coffee._

Her coffee press set, Hermione carefully carried it over to the table, snagging a cup for her to use along the way. The _Daily Prophet _was already there, having been delivered earlier. Hermione separated the sports section and put it beside her. Harry would want to read that first. Then she turned her attention to the paper, but not after throwing a longing glance at the kitchen. _Toast would be really good right now. But I know better. I don't want to set off a fire before I've even taught here a month. That would not look good. So I'll restrain myself._ Hermione immersed herself in the paper, losing track of time as she read it. 

Fortunately, she wasn't holding her cup or swallowing a drink when Harry tapped her on her shoulder. For she leapt up into the air, startled at the interruption. "Harry!" she exclaimed when she saw who it was. 

"What?" Harry looked a bit frazzled at her response. "I didn't know you'd react like that!" 

"Well, you startled me." 

"Sorry," he said contritely. He snagged the chair next to her and sat on it. "I was lonely when I woke up," he informed her. 

"Sorry," she said and tilted forward for a quick kiss. "I didn't want to wake you though. I thought you needed your rest," she explained. 

He grinned at her. "Trust me, Hermione. Seeing you first thing in the morning would have made me wake up right away." He winked. "In every single way." 

Hermione blushed – and then frowned, remembering again what she hadn't told him. Now was as good as time as any, she decided, and she opened her mouth to speak. 

Only to find herself being beaten by Harry. "Is there something wrong, Hermione?" he asked, leaning towards her. "I know that there's been something on your mind this past week . . . I didn't think it was anything but the usual. But did something else happen? Something that I did . . . ?" 

"No!" Hermione said vehemently. "No, it's nothing like that. You're wonderful, Harry. And it's not something else at all. It's—" 

As luck would have it, someone chose that time to knock on their door. Very loudly. And insistently. Hermione exchanged a look with Harry, and then they both sighed. Whoever it was, it didn't seem like they would go away without seeing them. "You'd best answer that," said Harry mildly. "It's probably better if none of your students see me answering your door." 

"I have to agree with you there," said Hermione as she rose from her seat. She crossed the kitchen and then the living room to answer the door, with Harry remaining by the door to the kitchen so he could duck in there if it did turn out to be a student. But upon opening the door, Hermione found herself looking into the beaming face of her other best friend. 

"Finally!" Ron looked very impatient. "I've bee knocking forever—" 

"You mean for all of a minute," Hermione interrupted. 

"—and I was wondering if you two were asleep and I was about to go away and just send a note." 

"Too bad," Harry said with a smirk. "If I had known that, I would have made sure that Hermione was too busy to open the door." 

"Hey! Is that anyway to treat your best friend? Who got up at this awful hour to congratulate you for winning last night, Harry?" 

Hermione winced at how loud Ron was. "Get in, you git," she snapped at him, dragging him in by the arm and then shutting the door. "Do you want to let all of Hogwarts know that Harry's here with me?" 

"Hermione, I'm sure they already know," Ron replied. "You two haven't been hiding your relationship – thank Merlin because I probably would have been the one to let that secret out – and every other witch would keep a short leash on Harry—" 

"Hey! I am not on a leash!" Harry protested. 

"—so everyone probably expects him to be here. Anyone with brains that is. And even those without any," Ron added as an afterthought. "I could see his fan club hanging around, just hoping he would be here." 

"Were any of them around?" Hermione asked. 

"Or any students in general?" Harry added, as he sat down in the armchair across from Ron. "As Hermione has her own fan club now." 

"No, it's too early for them. And Hermione has her own fan club?" Ron took a seat on their couch. "Do tell! You've not said anything about that." 

Hermione groaned. "Please. Let's not talk about that." 

Ron shot a glance at Harry. "That bad." 

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Especially as our Hermione evidently didn't know how much she was admired back when she was in school—" 

"—But everyone thought she was too unapproachable to even ask," Ron finished for him. "And now that theory's been blown out of the water and so . . . ." He smirked. "I'd feel bad for her if—" 

"If you had a single sympathetic bone in your body, you git," Hermione retorted. "Which you don't." 

"Is it fun, Harry? Getting to say 'I told you so' to her?" 

Harry grinned. "More than you could imagine." 

"Harry! That's an awful thing to say!" Hermione turned around to face him. 

Harry laughed and held up his hands apologetically to Hermione. "Well, I can't say it too often, otherwise she'd toss me out of bed. And that would be a drag since it's always fun sleeping—" 

"Gah! No details, no details!" Ron shouted. "Innocent, young redhead standing by!" 

"Ron, I don't think any of you Weasleys qualify as innocent." 

"I have to agree with Harry there." 

"Thanks. You two are real friends," said Ron. "But enough of this. I'll pry the details about your fan club from Harry later, Hermione." He smiled broadly at her. "I hear the game was bloody excellent. And of course, I wasn't able to make it." 

"Bleh. Harry didn't catch the snitch fast enough," Hermione said with a pout. She sat down on Harry's lap, and his breath whooshed out of him as she did so. He tucked his hands around her waist, first adjusting her position and then settling down just to hold her. 

"What? Hermione! I caught it before the other Seeker – and you know that's what counts!" 

"Yes, well, that still wasn't fast enough." Hermione crossed her arms. "Besides, if you're going to enjoy holding the fact that you were right about the fan club over my head, I'm not going to act as though I had fun sitting with all those other witches." 

"Other witches?" Ron asked, a perplexed look covering his face. 

"I don't know what . . ." Harry started to say, but stopped. "Oh. Those witches." 

"Which witches? Do you care letting a bloke know what you're talking about? Not all of us speak your secret code, you know." 

"Our coach had all of our girlfriends and wives sitting together. Because he thought at the last game we had, some people were paying more attention to who was sitting in the stands than to the actual game. I think it worked," said Harry. "And probably you all will get to sit together at the next few games as well." 

"Gah! I will not! I'll buy my ticket separately. Or I'll get Ron to buy my ticket so I don't have to sit anywhere near those witches," Hermione declared. 

"Was it really that bad?" Ron asked. 

"Yeah. I thought I saw you chatting with a couple of them before the match started," said Harry. 

"Okay, those two weren't that bad. But when the rest of them came along . . . ." Hermione shuddered. "If I had to hear one more question about wedding plans, I would have killed the lot of them." 

Harry went pale at her words, while Ron started laughing. "Wedding plans?" Ron repeated. "They grilled you on those? And you're complaining? You should be glad that they're not thinking of ways to steal Harry from you!" 

"Hey! They're dating my teammates," Harry said. 

"And your point is? You're still the most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding world, Harry . . . and I'm sure that at least one of those witches is secretly pining away for you," said Ron. 

"And it better stay that way," Hermione said ominously. 

"Just as well that we didn't go to the party afterwards," Harry noted. "Someone might have got hurt." 

"It wouldn't have been me." Hermione smirked. 

"So when are you dragging him to the chapel, anyway, Hermione? So you don't have to worry about witches trying to steal him away any more," Ron said. 

"Hey! It's not as though I'd let myself be stolen," Harry protested. "I wouldn't do that." 

Ron continued to toss cracks at Harry, but Hermione paid them no attention. His question had reminded her that she had still not told Harry. It was the perfect opening – well, not perfect, but as good as one she would ever get. But she didn't want to tell Harry with Ron around. It was embarrassing enough to tell Harry that the charm might not function if she was pregnant, but to say that to Ron as well would be ten times worse. 

"Okay, and someone is ignoring us," Ron said, snapping his fingers in front of Hermione's face. "Come on, Hermione. I was just joking." 

"Huh? What?" 

"She wasn't paying attention, Ron," said Harry. He looked at Hermione, concern written on his face. "Hermione. What is it? You've had something on your mind these past few days . . . and you know you can tell me." 

"Well, it's private," Hermione said. 

"How private?" Harry asked. 

Hermione shot a glance at Ron, trying to get him to leave, but he was oblivious. _Which is typical,_ she thought. "It's about . . . about a solution to a problem I've been having," she finally settled on saying, hoping that would be vague enough. With any luck, the boys would assume that it was a personal problem and Ron wouldn't want to hear about it. 

Harry blinked at her. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he asked. 

"Huh?" 

"You've found a possible counterspell?" 

"You have?" Ron stood up from his seat. "You did it?" he repeated. "And you've waited all this time to tell us." 

_Damn. No luck for me today. _"No, I've not found a counterspell," Hermione said. She felt compelled to continue when she felt Harry's arms tighten around her in dismay. "But maybe a solution to the problem it creates." 

"That's being very vague," Ron noted. 

"Well, it's personal." Hermione glared at him. _Why can't he take a hint?_

"And? I'm your best friend. I'm not going to go around telling everyone. I've not told anyone about your problem." 

Hermione flushed. "And I very much appreciate that." 

"You'd hex me to hell and back if I didn't. So you can trust me. What is this 'solution'?" 

"Please, Hermione," Harry said from behind her, his arms gripping her so tightly that it was getting hard to believe. "Please." 

Hermione closed her eyes. She wasn't going to be able to put this off to get Ron away, not with Ron being stubborn like he was and not with Harry needing to hear the answer like he was. _And the way he is . . . damn. I don't think I could tell him no, _she thought. She took a deep breath, then said, "If I . . . well, it's been suggested that . . . okay, if I had a child, the charm probably wouldn't work." 

"What?" Ron's jaw dropped. "Hermione, you're joking! You have to be!" 

"I'm not." 

"But you can't be serious. Even Mum and Dad waited a few years." Ron looked frantically between his two best friends. "This is nutters. You can't seriously be contemplating that. And there's no guarantee that it would work, right?" 

Hermione sighed. "I said it was private," she said under her breath. 

By now, Ron had worked himself into a dither. "This is crazy. This is insane. I'm not ready to become a godfather just yet!" he wailed. 

At that, Harry let out a snort. "Think of it on our end," he said. "And I think we need to talk about this." 

"Talk about this! Certainly! Take your time!" Ron said. "You should." 

"Alone," Harry finished. 

"What's wrong?" Ron asked. "You do have privacy charms here, right? So the ghosts can't spy on you." 

"Yes, we do, Ron. But we're not alone," Hermione said pointedly. 

"Huh?" Ron looked around the room. "Who else is here? Does someone else have an Invisibility Cloak? Or—" 

"What she was trying to say, Ron, was that we'd like you to leave," Harry said through gritted teeth. 

"Oh. I get it." Ron seemed to deflate, and Hermione felt for him. She knew he was used to the three of them always being together and working to solve their problems as one, but things were different now. There were some things that she and Harry had to work out amongst the two of them – and this was one of them. 

"We'll see you later, okay?" Hermione said as Ron walked over to their door. 

"Yeah. That's fine." He smiled wanly at them. "Sorry for being slow on the uptake. I . . . I should have known that you wouldn't want me around when you're talking about something like that." He held up a hand to forestall anything they were going to say. "And now that I think of that, I don't think I want to be around. I don't want to hear either of you going into detail or saying something mushy and starting a snog session. I really don't want to be witness to that." And with those words, he left. 

An uncomfortable silence settled between Hermione and Harry after Ron departed. Hermione didn't know quite what to say, and so she merely waited for Harry to speak. However, he was taking such a long time about it, she was beginning to wonder if she should say something – and if he was mad at her. 

Finally, he did speak. "So what makes you think that having a baby would stop the charm?" he asked, a curious detachment filling his voice. 

Hermione got up off his lap, so she could turn around to face him. "It's . . . the charm takes me to whoever needs me most. And if I was . . . well, who could need me more than my own child?" 

"That makes sense," Harry said. "Did you want just one?" 

"What?" 

"I was asking if you just wanted one child. Or several." 

"I actually hadn't thought that far ahead," Hermione admitted. 

"So what happens if we have more two kids and they both need you really bad. Do you splinch? Or do you go to just one of them, and get to explain to the other that he didn't really need you that badly?" 

"I don't know." 

"You didn't think of this solution, did you?" 

"No," said Hermione, shaking her head. "How did you know?" 

"Because you're more diligent than that. You'd have the answers before proposing this on your own." 

Hermione smiled softly. "Yeah. I would." 

"That being said, do you want to . . . to give it a go?" 

"Do you?" 

"I asked first," Harry said. "So you should answer first. 

"I don't know. Do you?" 

Harry frowned. "I don't think that counts as an answer. Especially as I'm certain you have an opinion. But . . . well, I don't." 

Hermione gaped at him in surprise. "You don't?" _I thought he would have been raring to go._

"I don't. Is that so surprising?" He ran a hand through his hair absently, before standing up to approach her and take her hands in his. "Hermione, we just finished school a few months ago. We both have new jobs. We're both trying to get used to being on our own – and to being together. We're not ready for this. You heard Ron. Even the Weasleys waited. I don't think it would be a good idea for us not to wait." 

"If it weren't for the charm, I would agree with you wholeheartedly. And even then, I still don't think I'm ready. But—" 

"But what? We're going to tell the child that Mummy and Daddy only had him because Mummy needed to have a kid to stop a spell she was under? And trust me, we would have to say something, or he'd learn it from some place else and be even more hurt by it. You can't keep something like that a secret." 

"I thought you would have wanted to do it. Because you get so worried about me." 

"Yes, I know. But – do you want to try it? As it sounds as though you do." 

Hermione shook her head no furiously. "No! Not at all. I just thought . . . I just really, really thought that you would want to try it." 

"I don't, Hermione. I really don't. I want to try to figure out how to live a normal life before having a child. I just want to be with you, without having to worry about someone else." 

Hermione let go of the breath she had been holding and flung herself into Harry's arms. "Me too, Harry. Me too." 

"And you've just started to research counterspells here, right? If it had been years that you've been looking for a counter and you hadn't found any, then it'd be worth the risk, but it hasn't bee that long, has it?" 

"Not even a month," Hermione agreed. 

"So just keep looking. That's all I can ask. And if you can't find one, then we'll think about it." 

"Sounds good to me," said Hermione. "You're not mad, are you?" 

"Why would I be mad?" 

"For me getting your hopes up like that." 

"I'm not mad. And I'm glad you told me, even though it was that. Because . . . because I like to know that we're that close and you're willing to talk to me about that." He kissed her softly. One kiss was followed by another, and before they knew it, they had wound up back in bed once again.   


**Author's note:** The next chapter will hopefully be up next Friday. In any case, I hope you liked this one and I'd appreciate it if you could leave me a review. I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter -- **Shawn Pickett**, **Tanaly**, **Connie**, **danielerin**, **TheGreatFox2000**, **ExcalibursZone**, **Angelic Demon16**, **Star19**, **lee74**, **CookiMonstr08**, **Oh-Dear**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **xxbabysparklesxx**, **ray1**, **Zekintha**, **Korine**, **788**, **Jabba1**, **Fire-bound heart**, **Horselover01**, **Amynoelle**, **LeslieGlady**, **Gamali Howell**, **RogueBHS**, **kararadcliffe**, **hpluver456**, **Kariprincess15**, **wyndnfyr**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **liongirrl4eva**, **Blackjewel6666**, **TheWraith1**, **aliceinwonderville**, **malu**, **Shaznay17**, **l-xFaTaLx-l**, and **PoTtErSPaYnE**. Thanks so much guys. It really does mean a lot to me that you took the time to review. I'm sorry that I can't respond individually to any of you like I usually do, but I'm running out of time to post this and I don't want to delay it. I hope you understand, and hopefully I'll be able to do better next week. Yumi


	33. Chapter Thirty Three : Signal

**Charming**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Thirty Three : Signal**   
  


Harry mindlessly pushed his food around his plate, not feeling very hungry at all. Ron was jabbering about how some customer had been a damn fool and managed to get one of the pranks he bought to backfire on him, and Harry supposed it was a really funny story. But his mind wasn't on that right now. 

Somehow ever since Hermione had told him about that 'solution,' he couldn't stop thinking about it. It wasn't as though he wanted a baby just yet – he was being completely honest when he told Hermione that he wasn't ready for that yet. The thing that was hard for him to get over was that when he thought of having a family, he thought of having it with Hermione. 

Not that was a bad thing, given that they were together and he wanted to stay that way. But it was kind of scary to think like that. Perhaps it was so natural because she had always been in his life. Well, not always, but for as long as he had been in the Wizarding world, she had been there and maybe that was why he thought they would always be together. But the thought was still scary. Especially when he didn't know if Hermione felt the same way. He knew that she cared for him and even kind of loved him—but he didn't know if she was thinking always as well. 

It was probably something he should bring up to her. But on the other hand, he didn't want to scare her off. 

"—And so that big idiot came screaming back into the shop today, insisting that we give him a refund and recompense him for his time off work and all that. Fred just took one look at the bloke, pulled out another package of the Electric Bugaloo, and pointed out where the directions were, all in red. I tell you, I've never seen anyone turn so red in my life. Though I don't know if it were from embarrassment or from anger, as he kept on shouting," finished Ron, shaking his head. "He was still there when I left. I felt bad for Fred to have to take the brunt of it, but then again, it is his shop. George said probably that one will get added to the list." 

"The list?" asked Harry. He hadn't been really paying attention to Ron, but that part caught his attention. The twins making a list couldn't be a good thing. 

Ron rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. I know what you're thinking. It's not a bad list. Okay, it's not good to be on the list but all it means is that we won't let you buy things from us. Because you're too bloody stupid to read the directions and so we're really looking out for you." 

"How long is that list?" 

"Too long, if you were to hear George go on about it, as he's had to turn several of those idiots away. And that means lost sales, but after today, I can see why they have it. It's just not worth it having to deal with morons like that." Ron stopped in his frantic chattering to inhale a bit of his food. "So what did you decide?" he asked in between bites. 

"Decide?" Harry's brow furrowed as he tried to puzzle out what Ron was talking about. 

"About . . . you know." Ron waved his arms in the air. Harry supposed that was meant to be some sort of clue, but all it did was confuse him even more. 

"This," said Harry, imitating Ron's gestures, "doesn't really help me." 

"Gah!" Ron stopped in his eating to throw up his hands in frustration. "About," he said, taking time to rub his stomach noticeably, "this." 

Harry wondered briefly if Ron had a stomach ache before cottoning on. When he did, he winced. _Damn, I thought Ron would know better than to bring that up in a crowded restaurant_, he thought. _We'd best get out of here before talking about it . . . and I had better tell Ron what we decided, because it looks like he's about to explode if I don't tell him. _Pointing at their plates, Harry suggested, "Are you finished? As I was thinking we could go to my flat to talk and maybe watch something." Harry crossed his fingers and hoped that Ron would get that he was trying to take them to a more private place before answering that question. 

"Good idea," said Ron. "But I'll take this with me." He looked over at the food that Harry had left mostly untouched. "And that as well. If you're not going to eat it, I'm not going to let it go to waste." 

"And I wonder why Hermione sometimes calls you a pig," Harry said. 

"Hey! I'm a growing boy!" 

"I wish I had recorded that somehow," said Harry. "So that the next time you insisted that you were now a man, I could pull that out as proof." 

"That was a colloquial phrase and you know it." Ron snorted. "And I must be spending too much time with Hermione if I used that word. Let's go." 

Harry waved a waiter down to pack up the food. Once that was done and he had paid, the two of them Apparated to the street where Harry and Hermione's flat was located. Not for the first time was Harry glad that they had kept the flat after they had moved to Hogwarts for Hermione's new job. It was nice, having a place they could stay at in London. Once Hermione was better, Harry imagined that they could spend weekends away. Certainly, Hermione needed the time away, considering how suffocating her fan club could be at times. Though they might want to get some new furniture for the place before they spent the night there. Though the flat wasn't completely stripped bare, it was rather sparsely furnished. 

When they reached the front door, Harry fumbled for a minute, searching for the key while holding his wand. Finding the key, he opened the door and motioned Ron in, then followed him while making sure the privacy charms on the flat were as strong as ever. They were, thankfully, and so he didn't have to set them once again. 

Ron took a glance around the room, frowned, and then kicked back on the remaining armchair. Setting the bag of food on the floor beside him for the moment, he said, "Okay, we're here. Thank Merlin. As I was about to burst and that would have been dire." 

"Yeah," said Harry. "As I would have—" 

Ron shot him a sharp glance. "Harry, I don't care what you would have done, really I don't." 

"You don't?" Harry frowned. "Great. Just great. I spend half my life dealing with the scourge of the Wizarding world and this is the sort of respect I get. I would think that I'd have a more impressive reputation." 

"Maybe to other wizards, but not me. I am your best friend. Besides, nothing you could do to me could be half as bad as what Hermione could do to me." 

Harry narrowed his eyes. "And what is that suppose to imply? I know she knows more charms and spells than me—hell, she probably knows more of those than most people in the world—but I don't think that she would ever hurt you." 

"Let me put it this way, mate. There are some things that a bloke wouldn't even joke about doing to another man. No matter how badly his friend had fucked things out. Witches however . . . ." Ron shuddered, a bit melodramatically in Harry's opinion. "Well, let's just say that some of the things that Ginny's threatened me with still give me nightmares." 

"More than spiders?" 

"Hell, some of them involved spiders." 

"What makes you think that—" 

"—Your dear, sweet Hermione would even know about such things? Because she's shared a bloody room with my sister more summers than I care to remember, that's why! And if I had blurted out that you two might be trying to . . . you know . . . I'm sure she would have found some creative threats." Ron winced. "And if not, she could have turned to Ginny for help, which would have been even worse as Ginny might actually carry through with some of them." 

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Your family is really something else, Ron." 

"Tell me about it. No, actually, please don't. I could tell you about it. I ought to write a book about the ordeals of being a Weasley. Couldn't you see that being a best seller?" 

"Yeah, certainly. How much of England are you related to? Like about half the wizards in it, right? I'm sure they would all buy at least ten copies." 

"Funny, mate. You really missed your calling. If you'd been a comedian, at least I could've thrown stuff at you." 

"What's stopping you now?" asked Harry. 

"The fact that you still haven't told me when you two are expecting. If you are expecting, and I hope you're not. And I would throttle the information out of you, except then I'd have to deal with a mad as hell Hermione, and I don't think I'd survive that encounter." 

"You and me both," said Harry. He paused, considering how best to phrase the decision he and Hermione reached. "And about that . . . we've found that we really do agree with you. It's much too soon for you to be a godfather." 

"You've got to be kidding me!" Ron's jaw dropped. "You two are out of your minds. You've gone nutters and ought to be sent to Mungo's. You can't seriously be thinking of asking anyone but me to be the godfather for your first sprog? Right? As I thought that—" 

Harry held up his hands, trying to get a word in edgewise. "That's not what I was saying at all. I was trying to say that we agree with you that it is too soon and all that." 

"So why the bloody hell didn't you say so?" 

"I did! You said last time that you're not ready to be a godfather, so I said that we agree with that—" 

"Which any normal person would assume meant that you decided to go through with the harebrained scheme and just name someone else as your kid's godfather." 

Harry sighed. He didn't understand Ron's thought process at all. "No, Ron. Normal people would know that you're our best friend and so we wouldn't have anyone else in mind, so what I really meant was that we're not going to try that solution yet. Though I don't like calling it that." 

Ron nodded. "I agree with you there. It's not a solution. Or if it is one, it just creates more problems that it solves. As kids are horrid." 

"Speaking from experience?" 

"No, of course not. Babies love me." Ron suffered through Harry's look of disbelief and pressed on. "You'll never catch any baby crying at the sight of me." 

"They'll probably smell you coming first," Harry quipped. 

"Ha ha. Once again you remind me why you didn't go into comedy." Ron picked up the bag, fumbled for a fork, and then began shoveling in food once again. "Why don't you have a seat?" he said, waving his arm expansively around the empty room. 

"Thanks. It is my flat," said Harry. 

"No, it's not. It's Hermione's. You should remember that what is yours is hers and what is hers is hers. Cardinal rule of relationships." 

"And when did you become the relationship guru?" 

"I'm not. I just have a sister who tells me things like that and you don't." 

"Lucky me." 

"You don't know how lucky." 

Harry sighed and sat down on the floor and against the wall. It was useless to try to have the last word when Ron was in a mood like this. 

"So tell me, are you going to buy new stuff for this place?" asked Ron. 

"Yeah, probably. Eventually that is. We're in no rush." Harry shrugged. "I figure once we find a counterspell, we can spend the weekends here. And maybe the summers as well, since Hermione won't have to work then." 

That remark caused Ron to put down his food and bury his face in his hands. "Have you ever thought that you might need to do that a bit sooner?" 

"Sooner? But why? It's not really safe for Hermione to spend time here when that charm is active. Truth be told, I could hardly concentrate at the last game, because I was so busy worrying about her and whether she would just vanish in the middle of the game." 

"Cabin fever, mate." 

"Cabin fever?" 

"If I were her, I'd be crawling up the walls by now," said Ron, pointing his fork at Harry. "Having to stay in Hogwarts all the time. Come on. You're not that slow. And you've been there before. Remember all those summers when you were told you had to stay with those awful relatives of yours? No one likes to be confined to one place." 

Harry frowned. What Ron said did make sense. He would hate to have to stay in one place at all times. "Hermione hasn't complained or anything like that," he noted. 

"She wouldn't complain because she thinks that this whole mess is her own fault. Which it is, mind you, but she probably feels more guilt over it than she should," said Ron. 

"She shouldn't feel guilty about it at all. I'd hate to think that she does." Harry sighed. "But she probably does. Because she's supposed to be the sensible one and think things through before she does them—but she can't expect to be like that all the time." 

"This is Hermione we're talking about. She probably does." Ron gulped down another large bite before continuing. "And she has that fan club, you said?" 

"Yeah. They're annoying, let me tell you that. I don't know which is worse – the young witches that idolize her or the young wizards that . . . adore her." 

"I'm sure there are quite a few young witches who adore you as well, if you want to use that as an euphemism." 

Harry flushed. "I don't know." 

"I do." Suddenly, Ron chuckled. "And do you know how I would have taken care of that detention problem? I would have had Hermione give detention to all of her students who were star struck by either one of you for some reason of the other. Then I would have had let you deal with the boys, while she dealt with the girls. That might have put an end to things." 

That did sound attractive to Harry, but he knew that Hermione would have never gone for it. She wouldn't have wanted to do such things to her students – and she wouldn't have trusted him in any case. Still, it was worth a second opinion. "Do you think it would have?" he asked. 

"Maybe not. But it would have been fun." Ron sighed. "But Hermione wouldn't let you have such fun." 

"Not even if I got you to watch me while I ran the detention?" Harry suggested. 

"Ha! I wish. Two minds are better than one and all that rot. But no. She'd be less inclined to trust the two of us together." 

"You're right. She wouldn't trust us." Harry shook his head sadly. "It's not as though we—" 

"—Gave Terry Boot the scare of his life for even thinking about asking Hermione to Hogsmeade—" 

"—While he was still dating Hannah Abbot," Harry finished. The two wizards exchanged a pair of wicked grins. "I bet he still remembers that speech of ours." 

"I know he does. Ginny went out with—well, if you can calling spending two hours alone in the library going out, which come to think of it, since you date Hermione, you probably do . . ." 

"Hey!" Harry protested. "I do not." 

"I bet she does. But back to what I was saying, Ginny said that it would have never worked as he kept looking over his shoulder and she thought he was going to wet his pants at any moment. She was mad about that one. She thought I had said something to him beforehand." 

"Did you tell her the truth?" asked Harry. 

"No. I'm not that stupid, thank you. If I had told her that I hadn't and what Boot was afraid of was everything we told him when he was thinking of asking Hermione out – well, that would have resulted in two angry witches plotting against both of us instead of just my sister trying to get back at me. Which I'm used to anyway." Ron gave a slight smile. "The things I do for friendship." 

"Thanks," said Harry dryly. 

"Don't mention it." Ron's mood suddenly turned serious. "But if you ever need any help in finding furniture for this place, let me know. And I hope you do because Hermione can't stay in Hogwarts forever. If the walls don't get to her, her fan club following around will. And it won't get better when you're there as you'll just attract more people." 

"I know," said Harry. "I know." He sighed. "Before I do any of that, I think I want to improve the wards on this place though." 

"Hermione's going to know that you did that first," Ron pointed out. 

"Of course. She's the most brilliant witch I know. But I should still improve the wards. For both protection and privacy. Besides," continued Harry without thinking, "I don't want to think about what you did to me if I didn't make the wards as strong as I could and she disappeared on us." 

Given the fact they had been joking with each other for the last hour, Harry had expected that would get a laugh out of Ron or at least a smile, but it didn't. "I wouldn't do anything, mate," said Ron solemnly. "I wouldn't want to do anything to you. As you're not the type to easily forgive yourself." 

And when Harry thought about it, that was true. And thinking of that charm activating and taking Hermione away from him again – it wasn't really that funny at all.   
  
  
  


**Author's note:** That's all for this chapter, and the next one will be up at the usual time next week. I hope you enjoyed reading this one and I'd really appreciate it if you could let me know what you think by leaving a review. Finally, last but definitely not least, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **Shawn Pickett** (Hermione has a few ideas to try yet, though the simplest one won't occur to her ), **danielerin** (no, I wasn't about to make anyone wait for the conversation, though I did think about splitting up the chapter just so no one expects the next few ones to be that long), **Ann** (yes, Ron was rather shell shocked, wasn't he?), **Connie **(yeah, they've switched roles in that last chapter, but Hermione will be back to her logical self soon enough), **Tanaly** (Ron in Charming is one of the most fun characters to write so am glad that people like him), **xxbabysparklesxx** (nope -- Hermione read him wrong there, but then she can't expect to know how he would react to everything that might get tossed his way), **l-xFaTaLx-l**, **jennymay**, **ExcalibursZone** (thanks, but I'd feel bad if I didn't. As for the wards breaking, that would be something else indeed), **EuphoniumGurl0**, **lee74**, **terrylove** (yes, I agree Hermione wouldn't want a child right away. She wouldn't put it off for as long as some might argue for I think she'd want to have while she was still young enough to keep up with it though), **Leah6**, **Cynthia 21,** **LeslieGlady**, **Sadistic Shadow** (yeah, Harry has other things on his mind to get done before having kids ), **Smalls**, **SilverFoot **(I'm amazed that you could keep all those stories straight), **TheGreatFox2000**, **ears91**, **Gamali Howell** (Ron was just very, very shocked at the idea -- and he thinks it is an absolute horrible one), **Jabba1**, **Redneck Horse lover** (I hope you are feeling better), **Zekintha** (thanks, will have to change those), **Star19**, **aliceinwonderville**, **Fire-bound heart**, **hpluver456**, **TheWraith1**, **chunkigoldfish**, **gabbychan** (some are, some aren't though I doubt anyone could guess where all the chapter titles come from), **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **liongirrl4eva** (that is a closely guarded secret - for if people knew how long the story is, they'd know when to suspect things to start happening ), **CookiMonstr08**, **Trinity144**, **malu** (yes, but it was either that or put it off, and putting it off would have only made it that much harder), **DarkChild2004**, **wyndnfyr**, **myman-harry526**, **genvessel**, **darbaby**, and **PalmTreeBlood**. Thanks so much for leaving those reviews -- they mean so much to me! 


	34. Chapter Thirty Four : Duty

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Thirty Four : Duty**

Hermione blinked her eyes, pondering if it was time to take a break. She hadn't been reading at the library for all that long – only for a couple of hours. Back when she was studying for her N.E.W.T.s, Hermione had marathon-long reading sessions that last entire days and then some. Those sessions hadn't taken place all that long ago, so it wasn't as though Hermione could complain of being too old to do those anymore. Sighing to herself, she set her quill down and stretched out her arms in front of her. The difference between now and then was that studying went faster than her current research. Even the research that she did while in school went faster than that. 

This was undoubtedly because there wasn't that much written on the subject before her. Hermione knew that once she found a counter (she had to think that way, as it wouldn't do to think that she wouldn't), she would be able to write a veritable book on the entire charm. That might not be a bad idea, if she wanted to continue publishing at Hogwarts, for while professors were not required to publish their work, it was a good idea for them to do it. While Hermione personally would like to get something of her own published, she was very glad that it wasn't going to be required of her. And that was due to the simple fact that most of her time spent in the library wasn't spent researching the counter to that blasted charm. Not even a majority of her time there was spent on that. Instead, she used hours and hours of time each week, drawing her lesson plans for the next. 

Hermione hated that. She hated only being a week ahead of everyone. She would have preferred to have had the entire semester planned before even starting to teach a single class. Though there probably would have been changes to said plan, at least she wouldn't have had to spend so much time each week in the library getting all of her material ready. While McGonagall had offered Hermione the lesson plans that she used, Hermione had soon learned that she couldn't really use them. Using her experience from the tutoring sessions she had held for Harry and Ron, she knew that the way those plans were laid out weren't the easiest to follow. Not to mention the fact that she wasn't known to be as strict a disciplinarian as McGonagall, and her classes tended to have more interruptions, though Hermione was working diligently to get that number down. However, as a consequence, she was not able to cover as much material as McGonagall or as much as she would have liked to. She had spoken about it to several people, but so far, the person who had came up with the best idea was Harry, strangely enough. He had told her to tell them that unless they could get so far by the winter holidays, she would have to assign them a rather hefty bit of homework so that they could catch up. She hadn't done so yet, as she was hoping that the class would start calming down soon and they could pick up their pace. Though if that happened, Hermione knew that she would be able to spend less time on her personal research, but there wasn't much she could do about it. 

Deciding that she had had enough of a break, she picked up her quill once again and continued to map out the charm she had chosen as the most likely to work as a counter. Well, most likely to work after she made a few changes to it that were carefully calculated. Hermione didn't want to make the same mistake that she had done before, so she fully intended to ask Professor Flitwick to recheck her calculations once she was finished. If he thought that it might backfire on her, she would return to her list of alternatives. 

That was a happy thought. It had taken her weeks of painstaking researching, but she had been able to draw up a short list of counters that she could perhaps modify to use as a counter to the charm on her. Her top pick was one that was used to remove all active spells on a person. The problem with that one was that it was primarily used to remove glamours a wizard had cast on himself, so one could see how the wizard really looked like. 

She was positive that it wouldn't work on a spell like the one on her. That meant that she would have to change it, and to do that properly, she needed to map it out. She didn't know if she would change it so that it ended harmonization spells or transportation spells, but that was a task she would have to deal with in the coming weeks. 

It was the whispers that was picking up in noise that distracted Hermione from her research next. Hermione usually sat where her students could see her, if she wasn't working on next week's lesson plans, so they could ask her any questions they might have about recent lectures. This had actually happened several times. More often than not, however, the student had some banal question to ask, such as what color she preferred in roses or if Harry would be visiting the class soon. Hermione gave out one warning to students asking her trivial things; if they did so again, she docked points and assigned a detention. 

So it was she looked up in annoyance to see what could have excited the students so much that they started whispering loudly, despite the glares that Madam Pince must be shooting their way. 

She gasped, then bit her lip. 

Draco Malfoy had made an appearance and he was headed straight towards her. 

She resisted the urge to get up and flee. That wouldn't be a very polite thing to do, and Hermione was determined to be polite to him until he was rude to her. Then she would give as good as she got. But she hated how he was stalking towards her at the moment. This wouldn't look good. Undoubtedly that was why the students were all so excited; maybe they were expecting the son of the Death Eater to try and kill the girlfriend of the Boy Who Lived. She hoped that they weren't expecting to see him try and woo her away from Harry. And she hoped against hope that he wasn't going to try anything like that, as she did not want to even think of how the Daily Prophet and all the other Wizarding newspapers would make that out. 

"Hermione," he said, inclining his head towards her. Before she could cautiously reply to his greeting, he had taken the seat across from her and taken a quick glance at the research in front of her. "I had thought that you were to teach Transfiguration, not Charms," he said. 

"I do. That is, I am teaching Transfiguration." She waved a lazy hand at the books and parchment in front of her and smiled. "This is for fun. I can't work all the time. And well, it does keep my research skills sharp too," she said bravely, hoping that he wouldn't be able to tell that she wasn't being completely truthful. Hermione didn't know why, but she didn't want to tell him about her little problem. Maybe it was because she didn't trust him that much, maybe it was because she was afraid that he might try and take advantage of her situation. It was probably a combination of both those reasons and more. She winced as she thought that he might have heard about her problem from Snape and resisted tapping against the wood of the table before her. If Snape didn't have the sense not to tell anyone, he would be hearing from both her and Harry, who didn't have any reason anymore to hold back. 

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at her. "Fun? You think this research is fun?" 

Hermione nodded quickly. "Yes. It's time consuming, but fun. I like laying out spells and seeing how they work." That last bit was true, along with the fact that she was good at figuring out how everything fit together in any particular spell. 

"If that's the case," he drawled, "then you wouldn't mind helping me do the same with an old spell I've been assigned to research, would you? Some bloody idiot up in Yorkshire decided that he could get rich quick, if only he could turn everything he touched to gold." 

Hermione grimaced. You had to be stupid if you went around casting the Midas touch on yourself. She felt for the wizards assigned to clean up the mess and revert anyone who got caught in it back to their natural state. However, it wasn't as though she had the spare time to help Malfoy with his own work right now. 

"I'm sorry," she said, "but I'm a bit too busy to do that." 

"Not too busy to do your own research for _fun_," he shot back. 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. She didn't know why he had chosen now to bother her. She hadn't seen him for weeks and had thought that he had moved on. "It might be for fun," she said. "But it's what I chose to do." She frowned. "And what are you doing here anyway?" 

"Can't a former student visit his old haunts?" he asked in a too innocent voice. "Some of the books I need are only found here, and so I dropped by. Imagine my surprise when I found you sitting here." 

"You weren't surprised at all." He couldn't have been. Everyone knew back when they were students how Hermione had tended to spend her days in the library working. 

"No, I wasn't. Greece was lovely, by the way." 

"I'm sure it was. Did you enjoy going there?" 

"Not one single bit," he said sharply. "I spent the entire time working. Just got back last week, and I had this handed to me." 

"Ouch. I'm sorry to hear that." Hermione turned her attention back to the book in front of her. "I wish you luck in mapping out that spell." 

"That's it?" Malfoy said, his tone shocked. "That's all you're going to say. And you're not going to help me with this?" 

"That isn't my job anymore, Malfoy," Hermione said with as little asperity in her voice as she could manage. "Teaching _is_. And it takes a lot of time to prepare for classes—" 

"You still have time to read for fun," was his rejoinder. 

"Not as much time as I'd like," she told him. "And I need to take what time I can for it. As I said before, I can't work all the time. I need time to relax and unwind." 

"But if your idea of relaxing is mapping out spells, I don't see why you can't do this one little favor for me. Especially as my work has doubled since you left to teach here." 

By now, Hermione was very frustrated. She did feel bad for Malfoy, for more reasons than one, but she had to complete her research. Besides, it wasn't as though Malfoy wasn't capable of doing the task on his own. In fact, it wouldn't take all that much time to map out the Midas spell, given how much had been written on it. Someone might have done it before and published it, in which case one would only have to check and make sure the calculations were correct. For a moment, she considered briefly checking on that for Malfoy before deciding against it. If she gave in to him now, he would come back again with the next assignment given to him and she didn't want that to happen. She had enjoyed the job while it had lasted, but she had teaching to focus on now. And she wouldn't be able to be any good at that if she tried to do two jobs at once. 

"I'm sorry that your work has doubled and that they've not found anyone to replace me yet. I'm sure they're busy looking for someone," she said. "But I simply can't help you. I'm busy enough as it is teaching. I really don't have the time to help you on any major assignments." 

"I see," he said. Lowering his voice, he added, "Once you got your boyfriend back, you had no use for me, did you? And it was a bit inconvenient to work with me, so it was time to get a new job, right?" 

"It isn't like that, Malfoy." Hermione closed her eyes. It wasn't like that. She hadn't got her new job because of Harry, but rather because of the charm. Maybe after she found a counter she could tell Malfoy, but not before. "In case you had forgotten, I even invited you to spend some time with my friends and I." 

"Please. I've been repressing Weasley's attempts to sing, and you've just had to bring that up again." 

Hermione glared. "And I couldn't have used you to get Harry back as we were never dating before. I've no clue where you got that idea from." 

He shrugged. "That was pointed out to me by a friend. I had hoped he was wrong, but I guess not You're not willing to go the same lengths for me as you would for your dear boyfriend." He got up abruptly. "If you'll excuse me, I have some work to do. Unlike others I could mention, I don't get much time these days for fun." And with that parting shot, he headed towards the stacks, leaving her alone.   
  


**Author's note:** That's it for this chapter. The next one shall be up on either next Friday or next Saturday. I hope you liked this chapter, and I would love to hear from you in a review. I'd also like to thank everyone who took the time to review the last chapter: **Shawn Pickett**, **lillyjoe14**, **danielerin**, **l-xFaTaLx-l**, **liongirrl4eva** (more than one ), **Amynoelle**, **xxbabysparklesxx**, **ExcalibursZone** (just because there's no immediate payoff, doesn't mean it doesn't move the story along ), **Nixus**, **TheGreatFox2000**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **LeslieGlady**, **Trinity144**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **hermione'sboyfriend**, **Star19**, **ace**, **aliceinwonderville**, **Gamali Howell** (I was going to say something, but I can't as that would give too much away), **lovesdan**, **CookiMonstr08**, **HyPPerBuBBleGum143**, **Jabbi1**, **Leah6**, **Sadistic Shadow** (Ron's thought process isn't the most straightfoward, is it?), **Jelly** (thank you), **juliet's rose**, **Redneck Horse lover**, **lee74**, **DcMxPxBnVr**, **jennymay** (she really feels that way and they are too young), **Dragonbait**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **cuttiepie17172**, **malu** (yeah, people do go crazy if they are always together. Or if they're always confined, which is why Ron's worried for Hermione), **wyndnfyr** (have never seen the movie, and I guess I should be glad?), **casey windsor**, **waterdance15**, **Joeh** (there's only one of me, thankfully ), **myman-harry526**, **Kiarah**, **silverbutterfly**, **hpluver456, **and **RogueBHS** (but doesn't that make catching up more fun ). Thanks so much for leaving the reviews! 


	35. Chapter Thirty Five : Our History

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Thirty Five : Our History**

It shouldn't feel like such a guilty pleasure, using her afternoon off to go to visit her parents for lunch, followed by shopping in Diagon Alley for her class, but it did. Harry would have had a fit if he had known what her plans for the day were, so she had decided that it was simply best not to tell him. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him and all that. She supposed that he might find out if her luck went bad and she got transported to another person, but that was the reason why her wand was always with her. So that she could look out for her own self. Besides, she liked to think that there wasn't anyone who needed her more than Harry at the moment. Certainly, there was no one else she'd rather be with. 

"So how are things with you and Harry, dear?" her mum inquired, after exchanging a glance with her dad. "We haven't seen either of you for weeks." 

"More like months," her dad mumbled. 

"Hush, dear." Her mum turned around and smiled brightly at Hermione. "You are still together, right?" 

"Mum! Of course we are!" 

"I was just checking. I thought maybe the reason why we hadn't seen you two was because you had broken up." 

Once again, her dad snorted at her mum's comments. "Not likely that. Hermione would've come crying back home again." 

That earned him a set of glares from both of the women in his life. "Dad! That's an awful thing to say!" 

"Oh, as if your mum thinking that you've broken it off is a happy thought?" 

"For you it would be, dear," her mum shot back. "And it was just a question. I always believed that it was best not to assume things." 

Hermione had to do her best to not smirk at those words. Her dad probably wouldn't have been too upset to learn that she and Harry had broken up. It would have given him a good reason to hunt Harry down – something he had wanted to do ever since that time Hermione came back home, near tears, after that . . . incident. She winced. Even now, it kind of hurt. It was so stupid for her to be affected by that memory now, especially after everything Harry had done for her and had said to her after learning about that stupid charm, but it did hurt. Hermione wondered if there would ever be a time when she couldn't remember every excruciating detail of that evening. She certainly hoped so. 

"Enough of that. I can see it is pointless to talk to you about this," Hermione's mum was saying, while holding up a hand to forestall any protest from her dad. "So Hermione, when are you and Harry going to visit us again? I know that I personally would love to see you some time this weekend. Though I wish I could say the same for your father." 

"Trust me, I'd love to see them again as well," her dad stated. 

"I think we're busy this weekend," Hermione said quickly. "Or at least, I am. I've lesson plans that I have to finish." 

"You could work on those at home," her mum pointed out. "All your old textbooks are there." 

"Yes, I know, but we've changed texts since then." 

Her father chuckled. "Nice to know that some things are the same everywhere. They had some crucial items to update, no doubt." 

Hermione allowed herself a small smile. "Not that crucial." 

"Thought so." 

"How about Harry?" her mum suggested. "Would he be busy? It would be nice to chat with him, even without you." 

Her dad's eyes lit up with unholy glee at that. "Oh yes, it would be," he agreed, rubbing his hands together. 

"I'll even promise to make sure your father behaves himself, if that makes the idea more palatable," her mum added dryly. 

Hermione didn't have to ask Harry to know what his response would be to that not so brilliant idea. He would have a hard time telling her no straight out, as it didn't look very good to refuse to meet your girlfriend's parents, she supposed. However, he would stammer about being busy about something, he'd start to shake as though with fear, and he might mention how he didn't want to leave her all alone. It was actually sort of funny, in a sad sort of way. Harry had no problems at all facing You-Know-Who alone. In fact, he insisted on it, despite her and Ron's protests to the contrary. Yet when it came to facing her dad alone, all of his Gryffindor bravery and bravado was gone. Which almost begged the question that if You-Know-Who was her father, would Harry have been so adamant about facing him alone? 

Hermione shook her head to rid herself of such strange thoughts. Really, that was a hypothetical question that was very silly. "I think Harry might be busy as well," she told her parents. "They have a big game coming up, and so their coach has really been running them ragged." 

"A pity," her dad said, his tone sounding exactly like Snape's. Though she would never tell him that, as he would consider it an insult, as she had complained many times to him about he did his best to make all Gryffindors miserable in his classes. And that was another funny thing – her dad's reaction to her saying that he sounded like Snape would be exactly like Harry's, if she ever told him that. Maybe the two of them had a lot more in common than they thought. After all, they had her in common too. What else they had in common would have to wait to be found after Harry got over his unreasonable fear of her dad. 

But then, seeing how her dad was eagerly stabbing at his steak, perhaps it wasn't that unreasonable of a fear for Harry to have. 

Lunch soon ended after that, with her parents having to get back to their practice and Hermione wanting to get her shopping trip over and done with before Harry got back. She said good-bye to them, while promising she'd see them more often and that next time maybe even Harry would be there. Afterwards, it was simply a matter of finding an isolated place for her to Apparate on over to the Leaky Cauldron. That was done more quickly than she thought, as it had been a late lunch and there wasn't that many people out anymore. 

Once at the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione waved a quick hello to Tom, before heading on out to enter Diagon Alley. She was almost there when someone tapped her on the shoulder. Turning around, she found herself looking at the beaming face of an old friend. 

"Hello, Mione," said Viktor Krum. "I thought it was you," he continued, his accent still noticeable, but not as heavy as it had been when they had first met. Though one thing he still had trouble with was her full name. In the end, Hermione decided it was better for him just to use 'Mione' as a nickname for her. It was either that or have him stumble over her name to call her a ninny. 

"Viktor," she said, rushing forward for a brief hug. "It's been such a long time. I didn't know you were in England. Are you playing here?" 

"No," he said, shaking his head. "But that is a long story, I am afraid. Can we sit?" At Hermione's nod, he lead her back to the table he had been sitting at before getting up to say hello to her. As Hermione sat down on the bench across from his, she saw him remove his wand to cast a privacy charm over their booth. She smiled. Viktor had always been very good when it came to charms. In fact, she figured that he would be a much sought after professor of the subject if he ever decided to retire from Quidditch, though that was highly unlikely. 

"So what brings you to England if not Quidditch?" Hermione asked, once he had settled down. 

"I am . . . recuperating, is what I believe the term is." He grimaced. "I was playing Quidditch, just practice, and took a nasty spill and . . . ." He sighed. "I feel much better now, but the Mediwizards will not let me back onto the pitch." 

"I'm sorry to hear that, Viktor. But why choose England? Surely you could have gone to some place with better weather?" 

He shrugged. "It is all the same. Good weather would just tempt me to get back on my broom . . . something the Mediwizard assured me would lead to me not playing even longer if he had his way." He sighed. "I wish our team Mediwizard wasn't so good." 

Hermione glared at her friend. "You say that now, but what if you were really injured? Or if one of your teammates got hurt? Then I'm sure that you'd be very happy that you had such a good Mediwizard." 

"Probably," he agreed. "But right now, he is annoying me. He is annoying our whole team. You get injured in Quidditch. You fly hurt. Why this he cannot understand, I do not know." 

"Tell me, Viktor. Is it a pre-requisite to be bloody proud about Quidditch injuries in order to play professionally? As I know if Harry were here, he'd be agreeing with you." 

Viktor perked up at the mention of Harry's name. "I saw him play. He was good. Very good. Maybe better than me." Viktor tilted his head to consider that idea. "But no, probably not." He paused. "You are together now, no?" 

"Yes," said Hermione. "You were right." 

"It is nice to be right. It is even nicer to be right about something so right." Viktor looked down at his hands, ducking his head to hide a small blush. "Even now, I do not have much experience with . . . that. But it did not seem correct for you to be always talking about him if you were interested in someone else." 

Hermione tapped her fingers against the table. "Viktor, if you want to say, 'I told you so,' please just get it over and done with." 

"Oh no," he said, shaking his head. "I do not want to say that. I am not wanting to remain on the disabled list for even longer." 

"Viktor!" Hermione exclaimed, punctuating her displeasure by stamping her foot. "You sounded exactly like Harry and Ron just then." 

"Which proves that Harry and Ron are very wise men." 

"Hardly. I should tell you some of the exploits they have got into over the years. And I was usually the one who had to dig them back out again." 

"They're very lucky to have a friend like you." 

"I know," said Hermione. "I know." 

"But I am forgetting my manners. How are you doing?" he asked. 

Hermione paused, before answering. "I am well enough, I suppose," she said, even as she considered telling Viktor what her main problem was. He was brilliant when it came to charms, from what she knew of him during the TriWizard tournament and afterwards. However, though she knew him better than she knew many of her fellow Gryffindors, he wasn't as close to her as Harry and Ron were. Though there wasn't anyone else really who was that close to her. 

"The supposition on your part implies that you are not," Viktor informed her. He sighed. "I am sorry to hear that. You know that I always wished you to be happy." 

"I know," she said. "I thought that was always very sweet of you." 

"Thank you," he said deprecatingly. "I have always wanted to be known as sweet. My teammates, no doubt, would love to hear me be called that." 

"But you are sweet, Viktor," she insisted. Hermione leaned forward and looked him in the eyes. "And why is it so bad to be called that by a witch? It means that—" 

"That you are looking to just be friends," he finished before she could. "I know this. Every wizard know this. When a witch says that you are sweet, be ready for the worst." 

"I call Harry sweet as well," she said, crossing her arms and pouting. 

"You do?" Viktor's eyebrow went up. "In that case, let me apologize. For I do not think that you only wish to be friends with him." 

"I know. You've told me that plenty of times." 

"Yes. But you never listened." Viktor leant against the back of the booth and regarded her. "There is something troubling you. If you do not wish to share it, I understand. It has been a long time. Our correspondence has been scarce. But I wish you to know that I am willing to help you if I can." 

She bit her lip, tempted once again to tell him. He could be a great help to her, but there was the threat that he would spill her secret. Not that it was likely given how taciturn he was, but it was still a possibility. And she didn't want that to be known by everyone. Finally, she settled on asking, "Would you promise not to tell anyone?" 

"Mione. Of course I would not. I am not the sort that is not trustworthy," he said, looking almost affronted. "Anything you said to me in confidence would be kept secret. I've never told anything else you've said to me to anyone." 

"True," she said. "Though you scared Harry that one time, when you asked him what was between us." 

"Ah! But I did not say what you had said. I simply said that you were always talking about him. It is not a good feeling, to be thinking the girl you like prefers someone else." 

"If it makes you feel any better, it's not a good feeling to think the boy you fancy prefers someone else," Hermione said wryly. 

"Well, if your Harry is wise, he will not hurt you," said Viktor. "For not only I and your father would come after him, but your friend Ron as well, I believe." 

"He would. Poor Harry. Did you know he's absolutely scared to death of my dad?" 

Viktor nodded sagely. "I guessed that. I did say he was wise, did I not?" 

"You did." She sighed. "As to what is troubling me . . . well, I did something that was really stupid." 

"I find that hard to believe." 

"Believe it." Quickly, she laid out the mess she had got herself into, with Viktor occasionally asking her questions when he didn't understand what she had said or something was unclear to him. She finished by saying that she had started research on a counter and had found a good spell to modify to be used as one, but since then she has been stuck. When she was finished, Viktor asked to see how she thought the spell was put together. She pulled out the mapping of it she had finished earlier and handed it over to him. 

After awhile, he asked her, "Have you decided which part of the charm to counter?" 

"Which part?" 

"Yes. It is a hybrid charm, you said, made of two parts." 

"It is. But I thought I'd have to counter it as a whole." 

Viktor shook his head. "Countering one part would act as a counter to the whole. The problem is fitting the counter to one particular part of the charm. I think trying to fit it to one would be easier than trying to mold it so it counters each and every part." 

Hermione mulled over what he had suggested. "That makes sense. Which half would you suggest countering?" 

Viktor grimaced, as he often did when thinking. Hermione had teased him that he scared people away from him with the awful faces he made whenever he was deep in thought, and he had responded that was good, as he didn't need to be interrupted then. Several long moments passed before he answered. "It would take a long time to counter the transportation half. Because a general counter for one has never been done before. Even portkeys are specifically made so a wizard can deactivate it or activate it at will." 

"So that leaves the harmonization half," she stated blandly. "Which also is difficult because that has never been done before as well." 

"Indeed. You have outdone yourself this time, Mione. Harry and Ron have nothing on you when it comes to getting in trouble." 

"Thank you. I needed to hear that," she replied sardonically. 

Ignoring that comment, he went on. "But harmonization spells have been transmutated before." 

Hermione's jaw drop. That sounded like a dangerous proposition. Transmutation involved using magic to change a spell into something else. She had studied it in both Charms and Transfiguration, but both of her professors had been very stern with their warnings against trying it out on her own. "Transmutation? Of only half a spell? I don't know about—" 

He looked up, away from the parchment and at her. "It can be done, Mione. Especially since what the original spell is. It is something that figures out who needs you the most." He tapped his head. "Magic is incredibly affected by how you think. If you think you can perform a spell, often you can. If you can't, you never will." 

"Yes, I know. I suppose I should be thinking positively about the whole thing, then?" 

"You should be. Especially as it would be easy to transmutate it, just by thinking of it differently. Instead of going to the person you needs you most, make it so you go to the person who you need most to be with at the moment. And after that, it is no longer a harmonization spell, but a . . . a self-fulfilling spell, is how I learned it as. Which has been countered before and quite often." 

"I never thought of having a counter in two steps before," admitted Hermione. 

"It is not the most obvious, but it is the easiest, I believe," said Viktor. "Because it has already started, has it not? For if it is not too proud for me to say, why else would you run into me today unless you needed to be with me for my help in this?"   
  


**Author's note:** I hope you enjoye this week's installment. The next chapter will be up at the end of the week again. In the meantime, I would really appreciate it if you would leave me a review to let me know what you thought of this one. Finally, last but not least, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **Fenris**, **Shawn Pickett**, **Tanaly**, **danielerin**, **Ann**, **Korine** (actually, I was referring to Snape, who is trying to play matchmaker now for him, though I doubt any of that will make it in), **hpluver456**, **ExcalibursZone**, **TheGreatFox2000 **(there are other things that could hurt the ship, you know, aside from Draco), **cuttiepie17172**, **justin-4902**, **myman-harry526**, **kpxiceboi**, **EuphoniumGurl0** (no, they shan't ever be in a tight group, as there's too much bad blood between them), **aliceinwonderville**, **liongirrl4eva**, **Leslie Glady**, **juliet's rose**, **Ftmble1** (good luck with the story ), **Joeh**, **Gamali Howell**, **l-xFaTaLx-l**, **HHromancefreak**, **xxbabysparklesxx** (there's nothing wrong with liking D/Hr ), **Tiffie101**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Edzeikal 4346** (no, Hermione doesn't know how to deal with someone who fancies her but who she isn't interested in very well. That's most of the problem right there), **JohnnyIsMine** (because you're not supposed to Transfigure students or even threaten that. That was why McGonagall was so upset at the false!Moody in GoF), **chocolatefrogfreak**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **malu** (Hermione couldn't lie to save her life, so let's hope it doesn't come to that. But no, he doesn't know about the charm, though he is curious as to what is wrong with her), **Leah6**, **chisox727** (that was Snape, and probably that bit of story won't come into play), **Trinity144**, **Orlando's Gurl**, **Blue Rain1**, **Mergincia Phoenix**, **cuttiepie17172**, and **Sammi D**. 


	36. Chapter Thirty Six : Open The Door

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Thirty Six : Open The Door**   


Harry ached. He was sore and bruised in places he didn't know existed, and that wasn't in a good sense. Quidditch practice had been brutal as late, given that their next opponent was Puddlemere United, who wasn't known for losing games. Harry rather thought that he had more motivation than most to defeat that particular team. 

He hadn't like the feeling of being rejected at all. And having the chance to prove to that team that they shouldn't have turned him away – well, Harry was bound and determined to catch the Snitch first. They would win, and he'd do almost anything to make that happen. His teammates felt much the same way, complaining loudly to him of how Puddlemere had lorded that last lost over them. Evidently, the other team wasn't known for being very gracious winners and no one wanted to have to deal with all that yet again. Though Harry did hope that the training practices became less strenuous right before the match. He didn't think it would be a good idea have to play Puddlemere while everyone was still sore and aching. 

Sighing to himself, Harry shoved his things into his bag from his locker. He wished he could leave everything in there over night, instead of bringing them with him, but the first (and last) time he had done it, there had been several witches caught trying to break into the Arrows locker room. He blushed as he remembered that incident. Evidently a pair of his boxers would have been dearly loved by some of those witches. Thankfully, it hadn't hit the news, otherwise Hermione would have hit the roof. Which would have been awful considering she was already upset with him at the time. Ever since then, Harry had made a habit of bringing everything with him at night. 

Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise for them to move back to Hogwarts because of Hermione's job. Certainly, the wards on it were stronger than the wards on their flat, despite Harry's best efforts to make its security as strong as possible. He wouldn't have wanted to deal with unexpected visitors, if it ever got out where exactly he lived. He hoped that eventually it would all die down, as the Wizarding world moved on to its next hero. 

Of course, the last time he had voiced that wish to Hermione she had rather caustically remarked that was unlikely to happen as long as he was setting witches' hearts afire with desire with the way he performed on the Quidditch pitch. He hated to admit it, but she was probably right. But then, Hermione was usually right. 

Shrugging his bag on to his shoulder, Harry trotted towards the exit, nodding at other players as he passed them. A couple of them were going out again tonight, which once again had prompted jokes about how Harry was all but married, the way he went straight home every night. If he were completely honest, he did miss going out places with Hermione, but he didn't want to risk her in any possible way. It was bad enough the way she had insisted on going to the last game. He could hardly play for the distraction and worry she caused. But maybe she did need to get out more often. Harry knew that he'd be going mad if he was confined to Hogwarts. He thought about taking her out to see a movie later that night. If he held her hand the whole time, she couldn't go anywhere with out him – or so he hoped. It was something that he had latched on to after that conversation with Ron, and it might be time to put that notion to the test. Harry nodded to himself, deciding that he would ask Hermione if she would like to go out somewhere once he returned home. 

"Looking bad as always, Potter," a male voice drawled out mockingly to his side as he exited. Harry didn't have to look to know who it was. It was, after all, a voice he had loathed and detested throughout his years at Hogwarts. 

"Sod off, Malfoy," he replied and continued to walk on. 

"Sorry to disappoint you, Potter, but I don't share your interests." Malfoy fell into step beside Harry, and he was tempted to start walking faster. But that would be childish and more to the point, it would make him look stupid. Malfoy, unfortunately, could keep up with him when it came to walking. The damn bastard was taller than him. 

"You could have fooled me," Harry shot back. No matter what Malfoy said now, Harry knew that he had wanted Hermione. Not that he could blame the other wizard for wanting her, but he could blame the bastard for trying. "Did you just come here to prove what a sore loser you can be? Or was there some other reason?" 

"Actually, I came to see what a loser who is so stupid he doesn't know that he's lost looks like," was the response. 

Harry had no idea what Malfoy was going on about. They hadn't lost a single match yet, though everyone was betting on Puddlemere against them. Besides, at least he had a spot on a professional Quidditch team. And that was worth noting aloud. "At least, I got on a team, Malfoy. And in case you haven't noticed, we've not lost to any team—" 

"Yet," Malfoy added sharply. "But I wasn't referring to that." He stopped in his tracks momentarily to regard Harry. "You really don't know, do you? What a pity. You should have known better, after the way she treated both of us." 

Now that was a hint that Harry understood. He whirled around in anger. "Don't you dare talk about Hermione that way!" 

"It looks like I've hit a nerve. And I'm only talking about the truth. Don't you like the truth? I thought all you bloody Gryffindors were obsessed with the truth, no matter how painful it is." He dropped his voice even lower. "And it is painful, isn't it?" 

"Painful to look at you? Yes, it is. You never were easy on the eyes." 

Malfoy scowled at him. "Honestly, Potter. One would think that your insults would improve as you got older and wiser. But that's right. You never do learn. That's one of your hallmarks." 

"And one of your hallmarks is having nothing better to do with yourself than to bully others. Though I am used to seeing Crabbe and Goyle with you. Where are they? Did they decide to run off together, leaving poor little you alone?" Harry smiled maliciously. "That's it, isn't it? You're lonely. Sorry, Malfoy, but I'm not interested. I don't swing that way." 

"Fuck you, Potter—" 

"No thank you," Harry said quickly before Malfoy could continue. He started to walk off, determined to leave the arsehole behind him. Really, one would think that he'd find something better to do with his time than bug him. It was very pathetic, come to think of it. Maybe that was why Hermione had been nice to him. Harry and Ron had always thought that she was a bit too soft for her own good. 

Harry could feel Malfoy stomping after him. "If I want your company, Potter," he spat out, "it would only be because misery loves company. How does it feel, Potter? To be dumped by that bitch?" 

That was it. Harry dropped his bag and spun around, his fist swinging out as he did so. His fist met Malfoy's nose just as Malfoy caught up with him, sending the wanker to the ground. It was sweet. 

Harry didn't have long to savor his victory, however, Malfoy quickly regained his senses, and kicked upwards, hitting Harry's leg. Harry stepped aside, to avoid being kicked in the groin, while sneering at Malfoy's miss. That was all Malfoy needed to get back on his feet, and before he knew what was happening, he was fending off blows from Malfoy. Harry fought back, with all the frustration he had felt during his school years feeding into his blows. He caught Malfoy right across the stomach, even as his glasses were knocked off, and he swung again to blacken the bastard's eye, and then again to— 

"Stop that!" Suddenly Ron was in front of him, trying to separate the two of them. "There's a time and a place, Harry. Yeah, he's a bastard who needs a good beating, but not in public! What would Hermione say?" 

Malfoy stood wheezing several feet away from them. He looked up as Ron mentioned Hermione. "She'd probably said," he gasped out, "that it was a good thing she dumped Potter for Krum." 

"What?" Ron exclaimed. For a moment, Harry thought that Ron was going to go after Malfoy himself. 

As for how Harry felt – it sucked out all the air from him and made him turn white. That blow was more effective than any of those landed by Malfoy before. 

"It's true. Go to the Leaky Cauldron and ask that damn barkeep. She was there this afternoon with Krum. Very cozy, it was, the way they shared a booth together. And you should have seen how her eyes lit up when he greeted his Mione." He sneered at Harry. "I just wanted to be the one who told you. So I could see your face as you realize that she doesn't want you either!" With that said, Malfoy reached for his wand and Apparated away. 

"It's a bloody lie, that's what it is," Ron muttered. "Here." He walked over and picked up Harry's glasses. "You can't see without these, can you?" Harry nodded silently. "Merlin! Don't tell me you believe that bloody arsehole! He's just trying to stir up trouble between you and Hermione. I'm almost sorry that I stopped you from beating his head in." 

"Only almost?" 

"Yeah. I don't want to be you when Hermione hears about this. And I don't want to be me if Hermione heard how I just watched you have it out with Malfoy. She can be scary when she puts her mind to it." 

"Do you think it's true?" Harry asked suddenly. 

"Of course not." 

"But Malfoy said we could ask Tom and he'd confirm it as well." 

Ron snorted. "Well, I do know that Krum is here to recuperate. So maybe they met, in passing, at the Leaky Cauldron—" 

"But what would Hermione be doing there anyway?" Harry hated how his voice went up a pitch. "She's not supposed to leave Hogwarts like that!" 

"I told you before, mate. Cabin fever. Maybe she figured that a quick trip to Diagon Alley wouldn't hurt." 

"But she knows better than that! And maybe she did go there to see Krum," said Harry. 

"Okay. Stop right there. This is Hermione we're talking about. You know, the brilliant witch who is more likely to leave you for the library than another man. She's not like that. She wouldn't do that to you. And Malfoy's an idiot. She didn't leave him for you as she was never with him, no matter how much he might wish it otherwise." 

"Yeah, I know." Harry took in a deep breath. That was probably it. She probably did just nip out quickly to pick up something in Diagon Alley and had bumped into Krum. And she couldn't have let him call her by any sort of nickname, as she had told Harry that she hated them. There was no extended conversation in a private booth, like Malfoy had implied. Besides, if it were a private booth, how could Malfoy see that they had been very cozy together? That was the whole point of having private booths, so people couldn't see what you were doing or listen in to what you were talking about. Besides, he should ask Hermione whether she had talked to Krum before taking Malfoy's word for it. That still left the fact that Hermione had left Hogwarts without telling him – she was her own person and all, but Harry wished she wouldn't do that. He probably should have taken her out, holding on to her hand the whole time, before this. Well, he could remedy that as soon as he got home. 

"I suppose I should get going," said Harry. "I was going to ask Hermione if she wanted to go out to see a movie tonight." 

Ron looked over Harry and raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, Harry. You're not going home looking like that. Hermione will be able to tell that you got into some sort of trouble just by looking at you. She isn't stupid." 

"I know that!" 

"Then it's back into the locker room with you." Ron smiled. "Besides, you can get me a pair of tickets for the Puddlemere game on your way back in. That is what I originally came for." 

"I should've known it," said Harry wryly. 

"Hey! You've nothing to complain about! I did help you out." 

"I was in no danger of Malfoy beating me." 

"Ha! Of course not. I'd be disappointed in you if you were. I was referring to Hermione, you idiot." 

"Oh." 

"Yeah. Oh. So about those tickets?" 

"Fine, fine. I'll get them for you. Let's go," said Harry, leading the way back in.   
  
  
  


**Author's note:** And I'll leave it there for this week. The next chapter will be up either next Friday or Saturday once again. I hope you enjoyed this one, and I would really love to hear from you in a review. Finally, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **Shawn Pickett**, **danielerin**, **Gia**, **ali **(no, there won't be), **jade**, **l-xFaTaLx-l**, **lee74**, **Mergincia Phoenix**, **ExalibursZone**, **Joeh**, **liongirrl4eva** (if they want to, they will Am glad you like it there), **EuphoniumGurl0**, **gaps**, **Gamali Howell **(Unexpected should be updated sometime this weekend--I've just had no time lately as it is already finished), **xxbabysparklesxx**, **HyPPerBuBBleGum143**, **Brieana**, **bishtawiman** (I know, but I saw no reason to make him mean and vicious when all he had was a crush on Hermione, though it might have been more than that), **Leah6** (I have no clue what you think Viktor is saying, when all he is trying to do is reassure Hermione), **ray1**, **sweetevangeline**, **Rayne Evans**, **hermionefan**, **TheGreatFox2000** (again, I'm clueless as to what you're referring to), **myman-harry526**, **templar1112002** (cough Are you sure about the ending? As some suspense would be good, methinks ), **Dani**, **ViperXIV**, **malu** (yeah, Hermione would be just as upset but trying not to show it if the situation were reversed), **otaku-dragon** (no, because no counter _existed_. Besides, I don't think JKR meant for the room to be the answer to everything. Using your reasoning, Harry could just go to RoR to find the solution written out neatly on parchment on how to defeat Voldemort), **JohnnyIsMine**, **juliet's rose**, **Bulma Queen of Saiya-jin**, **aliceinwonderville**, **Zuzuanni**, **TheSusanturpin** (he will show up again, but I shan't say how much), **hermione'sboyfriend**, **Esmerald Tears** (lots of people don't, so you don't have to be sorry, especially when you reviewed the last chapter ), **Jabba1**, **Orlando's Gurl**, **cuttiepie17172**, **Coldfire**, **wyndnfyr**, **Tywyn**, and **sunne1** (of course he'll find out. It wouldn't be fun if he didn't). 


	37. Chapter Thirty Seven : Chaos

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Thirty Seven : Chaos**   


Hermione stretched out her arms towards the ceiling, while still sitting on the couch, a large tome settled on her lap. That felt good. After her conversation with Viktor was over, she had put the Diagon Alley trip on hold and returned home so she could start laying out how to change the charm that was on her. Hermione thought that might be the more difficult of the two parts. Transmutations were always tricky spells. But Viktor had been right. Once it was done, the harmonization spell would be a prophetic spell (though her friend had used a different term for it that she couldn't remember). Prophetic spells were much easier to counter, as such counters were needed on a regular basis, usually because of some witch or wizard performing a spell wrong. Hermione blushed to think that in this instance, she was that unfortunate witch. She would have never thought that she'd be silly enough to get herself into this whole mess. At least the end was now in sight. 

Settling back down into her seat, she turned back to her sketches of how the spell would work. It had taken several hours, but Hermione thought she had the basic framework of it figured out. She debated silently with herself on whether or not she should ask Professor McGonagall or Flitwick to look over her calculations. It was very early in the process still, but on the other hand, it was a very important part. She needed to know how the spell would have to function in order to create it. If she got any of the mechanisms, then the harmonization spell would either not change at all or it would change into something completely different – which would lead to her wasting time to figure out what it had become. 

Sighing softly, she decided it was best that she go and get someone else to look over what she had done. Obviously, she didn't want any part of the counter to go wrong, and she would also be upset with herself if she found out later that she had wasted time by using an incorrect model. 

That didn't mean she couldn't still work on the counter. She just couldn't work on the transmutation half. She grimaced as she remembered that the transportation half of the charm would still be in effect. Hermione started rooting through the books strewn on her desk, trying to find the one about passive transportation charms. She wasn't sure what the consequences would be of leaving that part active, but she knew there would be some. If she had to take a guess, it would be that it might react negatively with portkeys or—and Hermione hoped desperately that she was wrong here—with any Apparation attempts. Then again, Apparation was an active spell, so maybe it wouldn't pick up on that. It would be very inconvenient and a little bit humiliating if she had to _walk _everywhere. 

Of course, that would be better than her current situation. She would be able to leave Hogwarts without fearing that she might be transported to some unknown and dangerous place. That was a big plus. Especially as Hermione really couldn't see herself living as she had been for the rest of her life. Hence the reason why she had decided to make a break for it and meet with her parents this afternoon. She knew that she wouldn't try that trick again, as she didn't want to tempt fate, considering that there might be a counter for the blasted charm very, very soon. 

Just then, her ears picked up a light baritone voice saying, "_Fiat lux_." Hermione leapt to her feet, eager that Harry had finally arrived back home. She couldn't wait to tell him the good news. Her stomach was a bit troubled about how he would take it, hearing that it was Viktor who had suggested the counter to her, but surely he would be more happy that there was finally some good news than upset that Viktor had helped her. Besides, she didn't think that Harry was really the jealous, possessive type. He was too sensible for that. 

The scowl on his face as he entered the room should have been a big clue about that. 

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "How are you?" 

"Bruised, Hermione," he replied, wincing. "Very, very bruised." 

She rolled her eyes. "Didn't your team Mediwizard see you after the practice? To fix up everything?" 

"Yes. And that's why I'm not more bruised. But he said the rest would be fine with just a good night's sleep." Harry hobbled past her, towards their living room and the couch. He threw a sharp glance at her as he heaved himself on to the couch. "You seem very happy," he remarked. 

"Yes." Hermione nodded her head and smiled brilliantly. "I had the best afternoon ever." 

Much to her surprise, Harry's features darkened. "Did you?" 

"Um . . . yes. Is something wrong?" she asked. 

"Not for you, it seems." He bent over, gripping his head with his hands. "So when did you plan to tell me?" 

Hermione's brow furrowed, as she tried to puzzle out the meaning of his words. What could he be talking about? Did he already hear about the counter? It was possible, she supposed. Viktor might have been invited to watch the Arrows practice and then he might have mentioned something about it to Harry. "I had planned to tell you right away, of course," she said finally. "But it seems like you already know?" 

Harry looked up at her, his eyes devastated. "So it is true? I thought that . . . I thought you . . . oh Merlin!" 

"Harry!" Hermione rushed forward, wondering why he was so upset. "What's wrong? I thought you'd be happy to learn that I—" 

"What's wrong?" he repeated. "What's wrong? Why, you've just confirmed everything Malfoy told me! And why the fuck should I be happy to hear that you're leaving me for Viktor!" 

"What?" Hermione screeched. "What makes you say that? If Malfoy said so, I wouldn't trust him." 

"I didn't," Harry mumbled, his face listless and his eyes roving the room. "I didn't. Got in a fight with him over the rubbish he was talking about you. But I come home . . . I come home, and you're busy confirming everything he told me!" 

"I didn't confirm a damn thing!" Hermione could feel her temper rising. Her good mood had dissipated, with Harry's accusations of – of what, she didn't exactly know. "How could I? You've not said anything of substance. All I did was tell you that I had a very good afternoon." 

"Because of Viktor?" Harry spat out. "Didn't think that that would get back to me? That you had planned to meet him?" 

"Viktor?" Hermione winced. "I didn't have any plans to meet him. We just ran into each other after I had lunch with my parents." 

"You know, Hermione, I thought that you could trust me. If you wanted to . . . if you wanted to end everything, you could've just told me. I would've left, and you could've met him here at Hogwarts where you didn't have to risk yourself." 

Hermione bit her lip. She hated it when Harry went into martyr mode, when he was trying to make the entire world feel as sorry for him as he felt for himself. "So you've heard about that as well, I see," she said through gritted teeth. "Well, for your information, I didn't go out and risk myself to meet Viktor. I did that to meet my parents. It might seem as though I'm happy inside so long as I have something to read, but in reality, it was driving me bloody mad." 

"You met your parents too?" 

"Yes! I paid for lunch too. Do you want to see the bloody receipt?" 

Harry flinched. Evidently that had got through to him. "But you still did see Viktor." 

"Yes, I did. We're friends, Harry, that's all." 

"You know, considering that all the blokes you've dated, you've been friends with, that's not as reassuring as you might think." 

"You are being incredibly unreasonable right now," Hermione said, stamping her foot. 

"So Viktor didn't have anything to do with why your afternoon was so good?" 

That was a sticking point. He did, with the help that he had provided her. "He . . . I saw him, and he helped me out with a problem I'd been having." 

Harry looked at her in horror. "Merlin. I can't believe that . . . I don't want to hear this. I really don't want to hear—" 

"How he helped me figure out a counter for that charm? Are we speaking different languages, Harry? As I've no idea what you thought I just said." She received no reply, as Harry simply sat there, mumbling to himself. "Harry!" she said, tears beginning to form in her eyes, as her exasperation and frustration came to the fore. "I told you Viktor and I are just friends. Why can't—?" 

"I always thought it strange that you'd like someone so much when he mangles your name beyond belief . . . _Mione_." He glared at her. "I thought you hated being called that. But apparently, Vickie can call you that all he wants. 

Again Hermione winced. "I do hate it. But it's either that or be called a ninny." 

"And so why can't I call you that?" 

"I've told you. I like my name. I don't like any nicknames. And besides . . . I like how my name sounds when you say it." Hermione hated this. She hated fighting with Harry, and she had never expected a fight with him over the friends she had. Then, Malfoy was there to poison Harry's ear. Too bad Ron hadn't been there to pound on Malfoy before he ever got that far. "I've told you and told you. Viktor and I are just friends. Friends like to spend time with each other. I'm friends with Ron. You've never complained about it if I had lunch with him, or if I met him somewhere or—" 

"I trust _Ron_," Harry replied. "I don't trust Viktor." 

"This isn't about trusting Ron or Viktor," Hermione said, almost sadly. "This is about trusting me. And if you don't . . . after everything that has happened, after all those times I stood by your side . . . well, I—" 

Not knowing what to say or do and not wanting to stay in the room or fight any longer, Hermione turned tail and fled.   
  


**Author's note:** I know it's short, but it's a great place to stop. For me at least. And there will be more of Harry's view next week, when I update. As always, I'd love to know what you thought of this bit and I'd appreciate it if you could leave me a review. Finally, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **Shawn Pickett** (Harry's certainly not the voice of reason in this chapter either), **danielerin** (yes, and he's made a big mess of trouble, hasn't he?), **xxbabysparklesxx** (he'll make another appearance), **ExcalibursZone** (yes, well, he's had a lot to think about on his way home--and up all those blasted stairs ), **Tywyn**, **juliet's rose**, **Mergincia Phoenix** (right now, Hermione would be surprised to learn that he has any), **lee74**, **EuphoniumGurl0**, **chisox727** (do you still love jealous Harry?), **Leah6**, **Orlando's Gurl**, **Ali** (alas, no fluff in this chapter), **TheGreatFox2000**, **PoTtErSPaYnE** (I didn't see any review by you--I usually sort them by chapter and go by that, so if it wasn't for the last chapter, I wouldn't have seen it. Gomen ne), **justin-4902**, **Sheilalein** (that last one is right on the money ), **funvince** (it was the nickname that did him in), **Gamali Howell** (he's not very nice in the books, either. Last chapter, he was more true to canon than he has been in others), **hermione'sboyfriend**, **wyndnfyr** (Hermione could've chosen better words to use in reassuring him though), **aliceinwonderville** (that wouldn't fit into my naming scheme, so no ), **Haystack8190**, **malu** (okay, I'm choking over the thought of Hermione's face if someone gave her the gift that keeps on giving), **SunFactoryGirl**, **shaznay17**, and **liongirrl4eva**. 


	38. Chapter Thirty Eight : Sleepless Night

**Charming**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   


**Chapter Thirty Eight : Sleepless Night**   


Practice hadn't been any near as horrendous as coming home had been. Though after he thought about it, most of it had been his fault. 

After getting those tickets for Ron (and extorting a promise from him not to bet against the Arrows), Harry was left to return to Hogwarts by himself. Along the way, he kept turning and turning Malfoy's insinuations in his mind. Yes, Ron was right that Hermione wouldn't be like that. But then, there had been that time when she had stayed mad at him forever. There had also been that time when she would hardly spend any time with him, instead choosing to spend that time with Malfoy. Clearly, it had seemed, he didn't know Hermione as well as he thought. And that little voice, that always sat at the back of his head, was prodding him, reminding him that Hermione could do so much better than him, that if she went with Krum she would have more of a normal life than she would have with him. 

Somehow, along the way, that voice had convinced him that too much of Malfoy's story had rang true for it to be a complete lie. It had convinced him to confront Hermione about it, to see if she really did meet with Krum and to learn if Krum really did have a pet name for Hermione. Learning that she had met with Krum, that he had called her Mione—something that he wasn't really allowed to do—and most of all, of him fixing a problem of hers—well, that last had been one too many innuendos for him to take. 

Which left him in his current position. Which was feeling like the biggest prat in all of England . . . or rather, all of the world. Because after she had left the room, common sense finally took over and it hit him what Hermione must have been talking about. She hadn't been implying anything about his ability to please her when she had mentioned Krum taking care of a problem for her. She had meant that he'd been able to help her figure out something about the bloody charm that was on her. 

After that had finally dawned on him, everything else fell into place. She must have spoken with Krum about the charm, and he must have said something that had led to their protracted conversation. Just what that was, he didn't know. She probably was going to tell him, but he had effectively cut that off. 

Which led back to him not only being the biggest prat in the entire world, but the stupidest one to boot. 

Harry sighed and go to his feet, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the couch. It was quite obvious to him now that he owed Hermione an apology. And he had to explain to her that he did trust her, he really did. It was just hard for him to believe, at times, that she would want to be with him. And it was kind of hard for him to trust anyone completely and that the most paranoid part of him surfaced when it came to someone keeping secrets from him. Not that Hermione was going to keep her meeting a secret—or rather, he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt about that—but the whole bit about her sneaking out without telling him aroused the paranoid side of him. 

He didn't think she'd take that well. She'd correctly point out that he had no right to know what she was doing every single part of the day. And he didn't want to be like that, but it was hard for him to know that she had snuck out without telling him and believe that she wasn't keeping other, darker secrets from him. Actually, he did know it—he wasn't that stupid. Unfortunately, it was incredibly difficult for his head to convince his heart of the same. 

Glancing at the clock, he noticed it was already past eleven and Hermione still wasn't back. This was such a mess. He considered going out after her. He was willing to bet that she was either in the library or her office. Then again, maybe she had fled Hogwarts entirely for the safety of her parents' house. Harry winced. He hoped she hadn't done that. Not only was that putting herself in danger because of the charm, it was also making it less likely that Mr. Granger could ever not want to strangle him on sight. 

Just then, the door opened. Harry whirled around and strode towards it, not wanting Hermione to sneak in behind him. Guilt struck him harder than before when he reached her. She had looked as though she had been crying. 

He hated it when she cried. 

"Hello," he said. "Um . . . I just—" 

"I really don't feel like fighting right now," said Hermione. "So if it's all the same to you, I just want to take a nice long soak and go to bed." 

"I don't want to fight either, Hermione. I wanted to say . . . that I'm sorry, I'm the world's most gigantic prat, and that I do trust you and—" 

Hermione raised a hand to forestall his apology. "Harry. It's easy to say those things, but it's not so easy to believe that you trust me when you started grilling me about seeing Krum when I first got home. What sort of a witch do you think I am?" she finished, her voice becoming slightly shrill at the end. 

"One who is too good for me," Harry said simply. 

"If that's the case, why do you think I'd chase after another wizard while I'm still with you? That's not what a good witch would do!" 

"I know. I know." Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and collect his thoughts. "You said I didn't trust you. But I do. With my life, I do. But when I heard about you meeting Krum . . . all my life, people have been keeping secrets from me, Hermione. And they've never been good ones. Those secrets have always come around to bite me in the arse, and I wish I had known everything from the start. So when I heard about that . . . it's kind of hard to listen to reason then, when the worst side of you comes out, the part that's been betrayed over and over again and finds it hard to believe in anything, much less that someone could actually love you." 

"Do you really doubt that I don't—" 

"No!" Harry took a step forward, taking Hermione's hands in his and looking her in the eyes, willing her to believe him. "No, I never doubted that you don't care for me very much." 

"Caring isn't the same as love." 

"I didn't doubt that either. I never wanted to hurt you, I never wanted to make you cry." Harry looked down at his hands and was startled to see that they were shaking. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I'm a bit broken, that it's hard for me to trust someone absolutely like I know I should trust you. And I'm sorry that I made you cry and I'm sorry that I made you think that I thought you hated me or whatever I made you think. And I . . I'm just really sorry, okay Hermione?" He looked up at her once again, to see that she was holding back tears. 

"It's not okay, Harry. It's not okay. It hurts to think that you could ever doubt me, despite knowing me for so long and everything we've been through. I like to think that you know me better even than I know myself. But if you can sometimes thinks that—" 

"Hermione. Please. Don't you ever have doubts? That little voice at the back of your head telling you that you're not that good, that you don't deserve to be loved, and that sooner or later, everyone's going to wise up to that fact?" 

"I . . . I suppose that everyone has those moments when they doubt that . . . but I don't let that rule me, Harry. I don't take it out on you. I don't accuse you of trying to cheat on me or leaving me behind. I know better than that, though sometimes it's hard to believe. I never give voice to those doubts." 

"But you still have them. So you can understand, kind of understand what it's like for me. I'm not trying to make excuses, Hermione, really I'm not, I know I should be better. And I'll try, really I will. But for me—" 

"For you, you had been unwanted for so long that it's hard for you to ignore those doubts," said Hermione, closing her eyes. "Yeah, I guess I can understand that. It doesn't make it any easier to deal with what you said, with what you thought." 

"I'm sorry." He didn't really know what else to say to her. 

"I know, Harry, I know. I'm sorry too." She opened her eyes and looked solemnly at him. "But it's not okay. It's not fine for—" 

"For me to act like that. No, you deserve better. I . . . I wish I could promise you that from here on out, I'll be the perfect man, never making you cry. But the best I can promise you is that I'll try." 

"I don't want the perfect man. I want you. And I want you to trust me, to believe in me when I say that I've not done anything with any other wizard. No! I want you to believe in me, without me having to say anything, to believe in me no matter what someone else might say about what I've been doing. Because I'm not like that, Harry. I'm not like that at all. And it hurts to think that even for a moment, you thought I was." 

"I'm sorry." He bit his lip, not wanting to break down into tears in front of her. "I know you deserve better than me, but you still chose me . . . and I hope I've not chased you away." 

"I'm still here, aren't I?" She smiled up at him wanly. "I don't believe in running away. And I'm not going to start now. So long as you're willing to try and trust me more . . . I'll stay. If you and me end, it's going to be you who does the ending of us, because I'm not going to take that step." 

With that, relief coursed through him, flooding him with bittersweet joy and making it impossible for him to hold back his tears. He pulled her into his embrace, burrowing his face in his hair, whispering to her how much he loved her and would never leave her. 

Things weren't all right, but he was determined to make them that one day.   


**Author's note:** Sorry this chapter is a bit late, but I've been busy. I had wanted to get two chapters out next week, instead of just one, but that doesn't look very likley right now. Oh well. One can always hope. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'd appreciate it if you could let me know what you thought of it in a review. And I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **Shawn Pickett**, **SunFactoryGirl**, **chisox727**, **Mrs.HarryPotter12**, **Tiffie101**, **Leah6** (yes, well that's how things go at times), **Tywyn**, **juliet's rose** (thanks! And they will!), **Jabba1**, **funvince** (yes, he does, but his trust issues won't go away just like that. He'll have to work at them), **justin-4902**, **Mergincia Phoenix**, **liongirrl4eva**, **EuphoniumGurl0** (if she's honest with herself, a part of her did because she was angry with him since she felt she always had to stay at Hogwarts so he wouldn't worry. But that's the sort of thing that is hard to own up to), **HyPPerBuBBleGum143** (it's not bad--I don't think that they'll never fight after all), **Haystack8190**, **gaps** (she didn't hook up with Viktor--or maybe you're not using the same meaning that I'm thinking of? She just talked with him), **LeslieGlady** (it wouldn't be fun otherwise), **lee74**, **ray1** (to be fair, many people don't know when to keep their mouths shut, men and women), **xxbabysparklesxx**, **TheGreatFox2000**, **PoTtErSPaYnE**, **Sheilalein **(doesn't it, though? Am glad that someone else likes that as well ), **ExcalibursZone** (good call on Hermione not dumping him ), **CookiMonstr08**, **l-xFaTaLx-l**, **wyndnfyr**, **malu** (yes, Ron would take one look at Hermione's tears and do his brotherly duty by her. Which would mean hexing Harry to hell and back, thus earning the respect and admiration of Mr.Granger forever. But it would be painful for Harry), **myman-harry526**, **Ophelia Eternal**, **Gamali Howell** (there's always H/Hr action, except when they're fighting, it's just been hinted at more subtly lately), **Sadistic Shadow**, **Anonymous**, **Miyoko5800**, **aliceinwonderville** (yes, Ron is fine! He was having a nice dinner when his friends started fighting. And lucky for him, they're not the types to drag him in), and **Scarlett Angel **(ah, I'm no good at writing D/Hr, though I can see your scenario). 


	39. Chapter Thirty Nine : Beautiful Day

**Charming**  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.

**Chapter Thirty Nine : Beautiful Day**

The door downstairs creaked open, then slammed shut, once, twice, thrice in quick succession. Hermione winced at the noise, shaking her head as she silently promised herself to have another long talk with Harry about how to set a good example and not slam the damn door so as not to give her another damn headache.

"Hermione, are you there?" Harry bellowed from below.

"Yeah, Mum, come downstairs. Come see what Dad bought us," cried James, their eldest.

"Yeah, you'll love it," Eliza said.

"Not if what he bought is a pair of brooms," Hermione muttered to herself as she put the book she had been reading down upon the table next to her. She got up and proceeded to make her way down the stairs of their home to the foyer where those three had come in. She had initially been ecstatic when Harry had volunteered earlier to take their children out, so she would have time to catch up on her reading. Now she wasn't so sure that she should have done so without setting some ground rules, such as not buying new brooms even though James had made the Gryffindor Quidditch team last year, and Eliza was dead set on making it next. Not for the first time, Hermione wondered why both of their children took after their father instead of their mother. Wasn't there some unwritten rule out there that said that if a couple had two children, one should resemble the father while the other should be more like the mother?

"I should have bloody well had that codified long before getting pregnant," Hermione muttered to herself before she entered the foyer. "All right, all right. So what is it that your dad bought . . . ." Suddenly, she felt something cold and wet touch her leg. Looking down, she saw big, brown eyes and an enthusiastically wagging tail.

"A puppy?" Hermione blinked. That was unexpected.

"Yes, Hermione, a puppy. I thought it's about time we got another pet around here," said Harry.

"Yeah, Mum, it's been ages!" Eliza agreed. "And Bottle here was the last one at the shop, and he looked so lonely that we couldn't just leave him all alone!"

"His name is Bottle?" That was another surprise.

"That's what he was called at the pet shop. So if that's what he's used to, then we shouldn't really change it, should we, Mum?" replied James.

Hermione, always being a quick thinker, had several thoughts running through her head at that moment. The first was that she was going to kill Malfoy for getting Ginny and Blaise's kids that puppy at the start of summer. She never quite understood why Gin was so upset, but the thought of muddy paws tramping through the kitchen and no one else wanting to take the puppy outside when he heard the call of nature—that was quite upsetting. Her second thought was that she was going to kill Harry for actually buying the pup. Her third was no she wasn't because then she'd be locked up, the kids would have to live with Gin (as Ron's bachelor lifestyle really had no room for children in it), and besides, she could make Harry take the puppy out for walks and clean up after it's muddy paws.

Her fourth thought was that it was quite a shame that such a cute puppy was saddled with such an awful name.

Her fifth thought was that she really shouldn't get too made about anything because the puppy was cute and she knew damn well she too would have trouble leaving the pet shop without buying it, knowing that the rest of its litter was already gone. That one won.

Bending down, she picked up the black puppy, who turned out to be heavier than she thought. "If he knows his name as Bottle, I suppose we shouldn't change it," Hermione said, ignoring how both her husband and her children's faces lit up at her words, as though they had been expecting her to make a big fuss about the puppy. "Do you know what sort of dog he is?" she continued. "He looks a bit like a Labrador. And how old is he anyways?"

"He's a Newfoundland," said Harry. "And he's about ten weeks old."

"Oh dear," said Hermione. "You're going to be a great, big dog someday," she told the puppy. Bottle licked her nose as though he was agreeing with her.

"Bigger than Albert," James noted. Both of his parents' eyebrows when up at that.

"Not that there's any sort of bet whatsoever between you and Nick about dogs, right James?" asked Harry. James often had some sort of obscure bet going on with Nicholas, Ginny and Blaise's son, though for some reason, it appeared that he was often the loser of those bets. Losing, however, was never a deterrent for him to stop betting with Nick about things like who could hit a bludger farther.

"No. Just that I wouldn't want a small, puny dog, that's all." James wrinkled his face. "You know the sort that she"—and he pointed at his sister—"would get all dressed up."

"I would not!" Elizabeth stamped her foot. "You're so stupid!"

"Not as stupid as you," James snerked.

"That's enough," said Harry. "Let's not start that argument again."

Hermione nodded. "Especially as that wouldn't be a good welcome for Bottle, now would it?"

"Yes, Mum," James and Eliza said together—inadvertently, given the glares they threw at one another.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. Both she and Harry had wanted more than one child, as they each had wanted a sibling when growing up (Dudley obviously not counting as one for Harry). Sometimes though, she worried that her children's sibling rivalry was going too far. At those times, she made a point of it to speak to Ginny, who would laugh and tell her some story about something the twins did to Percy, just to reassure her that it could be much worse. That was probably why Ginny only had Nick—Gin obviously had enough of tensions amongst siblings to last her several lifetimes, growing up at the Burrow. When Hermione had mentioned that to her, Gin had laughed aloud and said that Nick and James were virtually brothers, given the way they acted.

"Shall we go over to Aunt Gin's?" asked Harry. "I'm sure she'd like to see Bottle too, and maybe we can introduce him to Goldilocks."

"Another perfectly awful name for a dog," Hermione muttered.

"But it does suit her," Eliza reasoned with her mum.

"I cannot say anything to Gin about that now. Not that the name was her fault, as I'm sure Gin has better sense than that:" said Hermione. "But yes, let's go. Your aunt was asking us when we'd next visit."

"Portkey or floo?" asked Harry.

"Portkey. Floo is always so messy," replied Hermione. "And I wouldn't want to scare Bottle his first day her with a tandem Apparation."

"Wait, Mum, Dad! I need to get a—"

"Leave the broom here, James," said Harry.

"Yeah, James," echoed Eliza. "If we decide to play there, we can each borrow one from Nick." Eliza grinned at her brother, knowing what his response would be.

"You only say that because he gives you the best one, and I wind up with that relic that belongs in a museum. Oh wait, that's right, Nick's house is a museum." James rolled his eyes.

"Be nice," Harry chided mildly. "It's not as if you don't return the favor when Nick is over here and needs to borrow a broom."

"But he started it!"

As she absently listened to her family's banter while trying to get them all into the living room so they could visit their friends, Hermione smiled. She was happy. Very happy. This life that she was leading now was so good. She had a wonderful husband and two lovely children. Her job at Hogwarts, while difficult at times, really did challenge her and also allowed her to see her children throughout the year. And she had friends, good friends, who were also content with their lives.

And though life wasn't perfect and there were so many things she wished she had done differently, everything did manage to work out. She managed to wind up in the place she was needed the most—and that she needed the most.

**THE END**

**Author's note:** I do apologize for the long wait for this chapter, and this is not even the ending I had planned for this story. But it has been so long, that I couldn't quite get started with that ending, and so this one came about instead. This chapter was always meant to be the last one. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story. Words are wholy inadequate to describe how much those reviews kept me writing. Once again, I'm sorry for the delay and I hope this ending will do.


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